Because You're Mine
by GillyRoc
Summary: A spell that goes awry may bring some revelations. Swan Queen.
1. Prologue

AN: This fic is almost finished so I'll be posting it over the next few days. It has 7 chapters, a prologue and an epilogue. Hope you enjoy.

Thanks a lot for _starsthatburn_ for pointing me in the right direction with the first chapters and more thanks to _tonguemarksonmymirror_ for beta'ing!

* * *

**Prologue**

"You hear me  
I put a spell on you  
Because you're mine"

Nina Simone

* * *

"For the last time, he is _not_ my true love!" Emma insists.

"We don't believe you for a second, right girls?" The statement is received with a round of approval.

"Besides, you look so cute together!"

"No, we really don't," she sighs loudly. "I don't know what to do to convince you."

"There is a way," Ruby wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. She turns around to get something out of her bag and proudly presents it to her audience.

"No. No way! Nuh huh," Emma says, realizing what she's looking at. "And where did you get this, anyway?"

"The library, obviously. There's a whole section on magic that magically appeared after the curse broke. Pun intended," Belle explains.

"Obviously," she repeats dully.

"Come on! Don't be such a spoilsport! Don't you wanna know if he's your true love?"

"I already know he's not! This is so wrong," she sighs again.

"It's a simple, harmless spell; what could go wrong?" Ruby insists.

"Famous last words," she mutters, looking at the piece of parchment held in her hands; incomprehensible scribbles sprawled along it with some kind of translation underneath. "I don't think I should be making magic at all, least of all a love spell. Besides, I have no idea what the hell is written in here."

"But I do! You just have to repeat what I say and do your magic," Belle says.

"And it's not just a love spell, Emma, it's a True Love Spell," Ruby explains. "It also has some small tweaks just for you."

"Tweaks?" Emma asks.

"It'll be so much fun! The worst that can happen is that you prove your point and we shut up about it," Ashley presses.

"Fine, let's do it," that convinced her. "What do we need?"

"Yay!"

"All right!"

"I knew you'd say yes! I already have everything prepared, let's go!"

"Wait! Is anything going to happen to Neal?" She asks, worried.

"Nothing if he's not your true love!" Her friend answers mischievously.

Emma is already regretting this as she follows Ruby, Ashley and Belle out of the room.

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1.**

"I have visions of everyone undressed  
Everybody says you've got to let it all out  
But how can I admit? Sex is all I think about  
Everything makes me think about sex"  
Barcelona

* * *

Like a bucket of cold water poured straight into her mind, the thought invaded her and interrupted her perfectly normal day. One second she was dusting the already impeccable surface of her dining room table; and the next, she was feeling flushed and short-breathed.

The image was not long but it was concise, _explicit_, and lecherous enough to be embedded in Regina's mind forever. Or so she thinks. She stands corrected when after that first one, in quick succession, a series of images just as lewd cross her mind.

She stands her with the rag in her hand, her eyes wide open in disgust and almost hyperventilating while thinking, _you can do __**that**__?_ A few minutes, or maybe hours latter; who can tell, Regina shrugs her head trying to shake the thoughts and goes to her room where she miserably lies down, staring at the ceiling, her face contorted in disgust and shock.

Two days have pass since that fateful day; two whole days of harboring unwelcome, lascivious thoughts, and she effectively determines something is not quite right. She was never one to dwell on sexual thoughts and it seems lately it's all she can do. To make the matter worse, these unwanted, inappropriate thoughts don't come alone; they bring an uncomfortable physical sensation she's not used to and she's not sure she understands.

And although they say admitting the problem is the first step to solving it, just acknowledging the situation is not even close to actually having the solution, so even as Regina starts a path towards a rehabilitation of some kind, she still wonders what certain hands would do to her body is she could get them to touch her _just_ there, where–

_That's enough,_ she scolds herself.

It's a good thing Storybrooke is a monotonous town and that most of her job as a mayor, especially after breaking the curse, is almost purely routine and undemanding, because otherwise Regina's current state of mind would surely bring the town to its destruction.

She's been like that for a few weeks now: every minute of every waking hour she is thinking about sex. Not just having sex: by now she's sure she has pictured every inhabitant of Storybrooke engaged in intercourse in every combination and position ever thought of. And when she's sure she's finally imagined it all, more images come to haunt her, proving her oh so very wrong.

That morning, during the annual budget meeting – still in place, if only to give everyone some sense of normalcy – she actually considered including mandatory standard-issue sex toys as part of the firefighters uniforms.

And maybe they can parade around town in the only fire truck Storybrooke has, giving out free condom samples. A small voice in her head told her it would probably be a very bad idea. Not the parade part, that was an excellent idea, but the saying it out loud part.

Apparently the voice was right, because when she tries to sell the idea to Gabrielle, her assistant – who is still working for her only under the Sheriff's threat, as she constantly reminds the mayor – she was scandalized and not at all pleased by it.

Regina ended up erasing Gabrielle's memory and pretending that the conversation never took place, while thinking about her assistant on the giving end of a very unorthodox sexual position that would surely had her more scandalized than the chaste condom idea.

She still wasn't sure whether it was a good idea to use magic, but decided that letting Gabrielle think the mayor was a sex fiend on top of the Evil Queen was neither appropriate nor convenient.

She needed someone to talk to; definitely not the Bug, whom she could still picture moaning in ecstasy in the most nauseating way. Why the curse came with only one therapist was something she'd never understand. Besides, she didn't really like nor trust the insect.

She needed a woman: one who has dabbled in bachelorhood and so knows how to address the issue. One who will not kill her on sight and who will not judge her, even if she does plan to erase her memory after the conversation. But especially, someone who _knows_ about… these things.

The resolution makes her feel slightly better, and seeing that she is already in the diner, she loses no more time.

"Red," she called the waitress, looking forward to see the minuscule excuse of a skirt she is wearing –one that could easily pass as a wide belt– and the flimsy, transparent shirt that she wears under the apron. With every step that the wolf takes towards her, her chest bounces slightly.

Regina feels that moistness between her legs – the one that she doesn't dare to acknowledge, least of all explore – intensify at the thought. The mayor is sure Red is a screamer; she probably hollers her lover's name every time she copulates. _Regina… Regina!_

"Regina!" Red asks for the third time with a mixed expression of worry and exasperation. "Is there anything you need?"

"Yes, dear," she says, focusing on the task at hand. "At what time do you get off work?"

"What?"

"Am I not speaking English, child?"

"Um…"

"Well?"

"Um… five?"

"Excellent. I would very much like to have dinner with you. I expect you at my house at 6, and don't be late. Please," she adds the last word after a short pause just to be on the safe side.

Red just stands there fidgeting with her apron, her mouth and eyes wide open while Regina pays for her breakfast, leaving a generous tip. As the mayor walks out of the diner, she can hear the wolf scrambling on her pockets. It is followed by a faint, "Emma, you will not believe what just happened…"

Wonderful. She will give the scandalmonger a double dose of the erasing mind spell that night. She may even add some kind of wart-growing, feet-smelling charm to the mix. But only after getting what she needs.

Regina wonders whom Red is having intercourse with nowadays. Probably with 'The Savior'. She's not sure how that works, but she's sure the Sheriff can find a way to do it – and probably look exceptionally good while doing it, with her long, blond hair cascading down her naked back as she caresses the brunette. Regina wonders if they would let her watch some day: maybe she can learn something and… do what with the knowledge, she is not sure.

She feels the unwelcome, damp sensation in her groin intensify as she considers the possibilities. She's never seen anyone copulating, but now she kind of cherishes the idea.

Although, thinking about it: is Emma having sex while her son is in the house? Oh dear, in her parents' house! Are Snow and Charming also having sex while Emma is doing it too? What's happening to poor Henry while everybody is cavorting with just about anybody? He's probably with the insect during those lewd acts, since they always leave the child with the therapist when they don't want him around. Although Archie is probably thoroughly enjoying Moe's ministration while...

_Please, no more_.

She couldn't handle one more sight of the bug's orgasm face. She almost prefers to dwell on the Sheriff's sexual habits; at least she doesn't make Regina want to throw up on the spot.

* * *

She makes lasagna because over the years, it had become her trademark dish. It's also the first one that she learned how to cook. It reminds her of a past that bore the promise of making her life, if not happier, at least less painful.

"So… what's up?" Red asks after dutifully complimenting Regina's cooking.

Regina takes a deep breath and starts the monologue she had been preparing all day.

"I have a problem."

"Don't we know…" Red mumbles under her breath.

Regina shoots the girl her no-bullshit glance and Red at least has the shame to look apologetic.

"I'm sorry, please go on," Red insists.

"Lately I'm thinking about sex all the time." The only reason Regina speaks so bluntly and without preamble is because she knows that a few hours from now, her listener will remember nothing about having this conversation at all.

"We all do, Regina, what's the _real_ problem?"

"No, Red, I mean all. The. Time," she accentuates her point by hitting the table with her index finger at her last words. "Even right now I'm thinking of Grumpy giving Sneezy a lap dance, and Marco with that lady from the barber shop, and you–"

"Okaaay, ugh, Regina, that was too much information!" She says, grimacing.

"It's not only that; I am also extremely flustered. Even as I have these disgusting pictures in my mind, my body reacts and I don't know what to do," Regina says, desperation showing through her words. She feels weak and vulnerable, and she absolutely loathes the fact that she is in this situation.

"Umm…" Red mumbles, still not sure what is wanted from her. "Do?"

"To stop thinking about it; to stop feeling like this," Regina explains.

Red ponders for a few minutes and then she states her answer. "Lady, you need to get laid," she says matter-of-factly.

Regina ponders the implications of what her guest is saying.

"When was the last time you fucked someone?" Red asks, unabashed.

She doesn't remember. She actually doesn't remember. How is that possible? It was probably with Graham, a thought she doesn't want to dwell on.

"Okay, I'm guessing a _long_ time. So I rest my case; you need to get laid right now."

"Red…"

"Although, now that I think about it, good luck finding someone who will want to do you. No offense."

Red is right: no one in their right mind will want to have any kind of sexual tryst with the mayor slash Evil Queen fallen from grace – plus obliterating someone's memory after a sexual relation just seemed lecherous. She was not that fallen or desperate.

"Look, why don't you solve the issue by yourself," Red says.

"What do you mean?"

"Yeah, you know… take matters in your own _hands_," she explains, wiggling her eyebrows.

"I don't…" Regina starts, confusion showing in her face as she tries to understand what Red is saying.

"Jeez, you've never done it, have you?"

"Wh–"

"Masturbation, Regina! You've never pleasured yourself?"

Regina is sure she is blushing; she can feel the heat burning in her cheeks and Red's chuckles confirm her fears. This was not part of her plan.

"I never needed to," she feels the need to justify herself. "Those acts are so pedestrian. And that's not an appropriate behavior for a lady, might I add."

"Who told you that, your mother?"

Not _only_ her mother.

"I can't believe I'm saying this to the Evil Queen," Red says, taking a deep breath. "It's not that hard; just get to know your body. Touch it, play with it and you'll figure it out on the way. You can even look up some porn on the Internet to help you."

Porn? The Internet has pornography? How come she didn't know that?

"Just Google your kink and take a look at the free websites," Red said, annoyed. "Do you even know what Google is? God, I bet you don't," she rolled her eyes.

"Of course I know what Google is, Miss Lucas," Regina spat defensively. She just didn't know what a kink was. Or that you could use Google to find pornography, of all things.

"Well, if that's all, I'll leave you to explore 'get the evil queen satisfied dot com'. That will probably get rid of that problem of yours," she said with a sardonic smile, standing up and reaching for her coat. "Thanks for the food."

"Okay. Thank you for the… " Regina starts looking for the right word to say, glad that the conversation is over as she accompanies the visitor to the front door.

"No worries," Red says, sparing Regina of actually saying the words.

"Oh, Red?"

"Yes?" She asks, turning around while Regina flicks her wrist in front of her. "Regina? What am I doing here?" She asks with a newfound confused expression.

"Just checking on my good behavior, dear. Thanks for stopping by, see you some other time," she says, closing the door on the puzzled wolf's face.

TBC


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2.**

**WARNINGS**: Has masturbation.

"And when my hand touches myself  
I can finally rest my head  
And when they say take of his body  
I think I'll take from mine instead"

Tori Amos

* * *

It takes several days for Regina to realize that Google does not have what she needs. First, she tried looking for general pornography until she understood what to look for specifically. She eventually discovered Red's infamous kinks, and after a disturbingly close encounter with what they call 'golden showers', she decided to leave those aside for the moment and focus her search on… oh… masturbation. Just thinking of the word made her feel queasy.

Her permanent arousal does not subside despite the horrific pictures and videos she got to see, but whenever she tries to touch herself, not very sure of what she's supposed to do, she feels lecherously dirty and ashamed.

After the Google pornography slash kinks slash extremely vulgar and complicated masturbation ordeal, she decides to focus her search on sites that could tell her what to do with herself without being it extremely crass and lewd: something like masturbation –she can now think the word without getting dizzy– for beginners. She finds out, to her surprise, that the websites are almost entirely aimed at older, unsatisfied women.

She has a method. She takes notes, compares articles and testimonies, and finally comes up with a somewhat satisfying chart of instructions in what she assumes must be the chronological order of the affair. Quest. Whatever.

When she had memorized the instructions step by step, she prepared, yet again, for a night of pleasure and self-indulgence that would hopefully not go awry like the ones before; one that will actually conclude with pleasure and self-indulgence, and not with frustration. She just needed to follow the instructions and everything should be fine; the arousal will go away and she can return to the hormone-less, solitary life that she had grown so used to.

'Set the mood' is the first step; 'create an atmosphere for arousal'.

The chosen scenario for the evening is the bathtub. Not only is it the most recommended place for beginners, but she can also touch herself while tricking her mind into believing she is just taking a bath so she won't feel indecent and ruin the whole thing again.

She places candles all over the bathroom, leaves a wine bottle at bay, and spills some essential oils and bubble bath into the filling tub.

Between her fantasies galore and the little not-so-horrifying pornographic material the Internet provided, she has enough to do what she's supposed to do. Only, she realizes, it's still too much for her. She has flashes of women mouthing penises so big it makes her want to puke and she's sure she even sees a flash of a long forgotten memory of her father doing something that seems excruciatingly painful to her mother in the stables.

_Please not in the stables_, she begs as she tries to erase the mental picture she just conjured.

_When did you become such a prude? You are not some blushing virgin,_ she admonishes herself. Probably when she realized she actually had to do the job and not just to lay there and wait for the man to finish.

She feels the nausea rising from her stomach and decides to end this charade once and for all. She is The Evil Queen, for God's sake; she doesn't need to pleasure herself.

Only she does, because she knows the world will come to an end before she finds someone who will willingly take her out of her misery.

She slumps back in the tub with a groan and decides to give it another try. Focus, she read somewhere; 'in order to reach your peak, you need to relax and focus', and probably have a glass of wine. Or three, in her case.

Relax, she remembers, because 'you'll be more responsive to touch when you're relaxed'. Awaken your senses while you empty your mind of everything that is not your body; concentrate on what you want and what you feel right now.

Regina takes a few minutes to slowly breath in and out with her eyes tightly shut, feeling her chest rising and falling, creating waves on the water with the movement. It's a nice, calming feeling.

She starts with her feet, feeling toe by toe, her slightly scratchy heels, her soft arches and ankles. Her breathing is steady as she feels her calves and the back of her knees – which, she notices, are slightly more sensitive than the rest of her legs – stretching them one by one and bringing them out of the water while she travels over spent muscles, feeling the water slide down her skin.

Her hands roam to her thighs and Regina starts feeling a confortable warmness pooling in her lower stomach. They wander by her inner thighs, welcoming the unfamiliar sensation, before traveling up to her torso, purposely avoiding her breasts.

Her chest is smooth and wonderfully soft under her caresses, and as she continues the exploration, she discovers a sensitive spot on the small depression beneath her arms; it's tender and just a little bit ticklish at the same time, and touching it makes the warm feeling intensify. She follows the path of her arms tracing her muscles down to her hands.

'Cherish your scars'. She only has one: the majority of her scars are not physical. There is someone who has scars however, she notes: Sheriff Swan has one right above her left breast. Regina's seen it a couple of times, whenever the weather allows her to wear those ridiculous sleeveless tops she seems so fond of. Does the Sheriff have any more scars? She wonders what it would be like to touch it; would the skin there be more sensitive? She makes a mental note to ask her about that. Maybe even ask her to let her touch it, lick it, bite it…

_Focus, Regina._

'Circle your nipples with your fingertip; gently tug on them. If this is an erogenous zone for you, it may trigger tingles down below.' Oh, it's erogenous all right, Regina notices; forcefully exhaling a mouthful of air she didn't realized she was holding. She lingers on her breasts, stretching the nipples as much as possible until they are impossibly hard.

'Let your digits wander south, tracing the sensitive folds of your inner labia'. If everything is how it's meant to be, she's supposed to be wet – but how can she know that being underwater, she wonders.

She reaches down. _Ah_. _I understand_, she realizes with a faint smile covering her lips.

'Start small; don't go for penetration at the beginning; forget about the G-Spot for now'. That's a strange instruction and even when she was fabricating her chart, she didn't fully understand it: intercourse without penetration seems unfathomable and she just has no idea of what a G-Spot is. Nevertheless, it was a recurring recommendation, so she included it and planned on investigating about the G-Spot in the future, when her stomach can handle it.

'Tease yourself.' She abandons her lower lips and lightly touches the parts of her body she previously catalogued as sensitive one by one, taking her time, savoring the tingles she feels along her body. Her breathing is getting heavier, faster.

'Tap your clitoris lightly with one finger, speeding up as you become aroused.' Regina jumps at the sudden sensation and quickly withdraws her hand. That's new, not at all unpleasant – just unexpected.

Hesitantly, she returns the finger where it was and traces the unfamiliar shapes of her own body. She hears a whimper and for a second wonders where the sound came from, then realizes that it had in fact been her. She twists and flicks her finger, and massages the zone until her whimpers turns into breathy moans.

Her skin feels overwhelmed with sensation: it seems to burn wherever she touches. Her entire body tingles and she welcomes the feelings till then unknown to her.

And finally, 'just ride the wave of pleasure as your nether regions become more sensitive, your heart rate zooms, your breathing intensifies, and the walls of your vagina begin to contract; all telltale signs you're bound for bliss.' Her back arches as she feels ripples of pleasure coursing through her body, her toes curling and her eyes forcefully closed.

She doesn't stop moving her finger until she can't stand it anymore, and the waves of joy slowly abandon her body. She breathes in all the air that her lungs can muster and lets herself collapse against the tub in contentment. She lays there motionless, waiting for her breathing to go back to normal. The now lukewarm water is uncomfortable, but she can't gather the strength to stand up.

Regina feels she had been living in the dark for her whole life; she cannot recall a sexual encounter that left her feeling like this; so utterly spent, so wonderfully satisfied.

And she realizes that she, Regina Mills, Evil Queen of the Enchanted Forest, mayor extraordinaire of Storybrooke, Maine, master in the arts of seduction and flirtation, has just had her first orgasm.

**TBC**

* * *

AN: Some tips taken from Cosmo and other websites.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3.**

"I'm in love with a fairytale  
Even though it hurts  
Cause I don't care if I lose my mind,  
I'm already cursed"

Alexander Rybak

It wasn't a secret to anybody that the illustrious Madam Mayor got her kicks from fighting with the Sheriff. Emma herself often wondered how their usual enemy banter turned into such a necessity for her. Regina challenged Emma in ways that nobody had done before, and she knew – because she was absolutely certain that she was not imagining it – that Regina had also come to enjoy their exchanges.

The day that Emma finally decided to stop fooling herself and to stop denying her painfully obvious feelings, she let herself gaze at the mayor. More like gawk, if she were to be absolutely honest with herself. She can't help that everything about Regina is enticing to her. Regina truly is, and Emma just now begins to understand the irony, the fairest of them all.

Before she broke the curse, Regina was a mystery, a fucking enigma for Emma: she handled herself with such regality and poise that Emma didn't think it possible of this world. Back then, she almost wanted to believe Henry, if only to explain Regina's impossibly composed demeanor and unrelenting eloquence at all times.

And now, after everything was revealed, even though she thinks she should hate the Evil Queen and blame her for all that is wrong in the world like everyone else, she just can't bring herself to do it. Emma knows nothing of this Evil Queen: all she knows is Regina Mills, Storybrooke's mayor. As she hears Mary Margaret and Henry recount the so-called facts, she hopes both of them are using artistic license to give some meaning to the literal witch-hunt that is taking place.

For a long time, Emma couldn't help but pray that something dreadful happened to Regina to make her who she was, because the alternative was just inconceivable. A not so small part of her, she admits shamefully, wanted Regina to have a horrible childhood and an even worse youth, because if the book and the fairytale characters are right, Regina is indeed rotten to the core, and Emma doesn't know how she is supposed to love someone who is intrinsically evil.

Oh, yes, because her life just can't get any more complicated: Emma is certainly in love with Regina. The Savior in love with The Evil Queen; it can't get more ironic than that. It's an epiphany she has come to terms with, but one she keeps hidden in the deepest, most secret vault of her heart – because if she is wrong, if Regina is indeed as wicked as everybody seems to think, then she knows that her heart will be shattered in the cruelest way, and she's not sure she can come back from that pain a second time.

Now that she knows at least part of Regina's story, now that Emma has learned that she was – albeit partially, she's not sure – right all along, she feels at least a little bit relieved, even though she is willing to swear under oath that's not true and she will deny for as long as she lives that she finds solace in Regina's wounded life.

So, for now, she covets from afar, waiting for the day that the stars will align and the moment will come for The Evil Queen and The Savior to be together. She strongly believes it's meant to happen: she believes everything that's come to happen regardless of how pointless and painful it may seem at the moment, is a convoluted scheme of the universe so that Emma and Regina's paths could intertwine. And if grief is the price she had to pay for being with her, she would go through it all over again without a second thought.

She has to believe, because even if a broken heart is excruciatingly painful, she can't think of a curse worse than living in a reality without Regina.

As she unabashedly stares at the mayor, completely unable to take her eyes away, she notices Regina is almost always looking back at her. Emma constantly tries to meet those dark eyes but Regina shies away when she notices Emma's stares, as if she is afraid to acknowledge the Sheriff's attentions.

Emma's heart keeps betraying her as she attempts to bond with Regina and her eyes keep lingering just a while longer to see if the mayor will finally look back. But she never does, and Emma is left, once again, wanting the intense gaze back on her.

For the time being, she is satisfied with her constant fantasies, now a permanent companion to her everyday thoughts. She just doesn't know how long she will be able to take it because, even though she is pretty good at concealing her thoughts, these past weeks they seem to be out of control and her body has started betraying her in the most blatant way. Now she can _sense_ the mayor whenever she's near and, more often than not, her stomach flutters, her chest starts to heave and she gets flushed and wet almost immediately.

And on top of it all, Mary Margaret hinted there may be a way of going back to the Enchanted Forest and that she is actually considering leaving Regina behind. She needs to find out if there is anything left of Regina's damaged self that is not completely damaged; she needs to prove them, but most of all herself, that Regina is worth saving.

* * *

"Mary Margaret?" Emma asks shyly, still not sure of how to address her mother.

Emma is hovering around and fidgeting nervously while Mary Margaret makes them something to eat. She knows it's a childish thing that she's about to ask, but her mother is the epitome of True Love and All That is Magical in The Whole Wide World and Beyond, so she muses it's only natural to want to know her opinion on the matter.

"Yes?"

"How do you know when someone loves you? Or likes you? Or whatever…"

"What?" Mary Margaret asks turning around from the stove so fast she nearly drops the cheese she has in her hands.

"You know…" she asks again, awkwardly waving her hands as she fakes a nonchalance and a confidence she doesn't really feel. _Some savior I am; scared of a conversation with my own mother._

"Oh. Aw…" she says clasping her hands against her chest with a goofy smile on her face. "My daughter has a crush!"

And this is how Emma comes to decide that being born of true love and having Snow White and Prince Charming as their parents is more of a curse itself that any other kind of punishment she's come to endure.

"You know what? This is ridiculous; forget about it," she turns around to leave but a firm hand grabs her arm and keeps her in place.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! It's just… I'm excited and… never mind!" Mary Margaret says, abandoning her cooking altogether and pulling Emma to the couch.

"So?" Emma inquires.

"Oh, Emma, I think you just know," she says after a while of thinking, reflecting her effort to hide the mushy glance her daughter is eliciting on her and very much failing at it.

"Yeah, I know, you know? But… what if you're wrong?"

Emma didn't think she was wrong. She didn't think she was wrong at all. But still, what if?

"I don't know. I think it's in the kiss, maybe. If you _have_ to have evidence, then that would be it! I think." For being the paramount of True Love, Mary Margaret's eloquence on the matter is confusing, to say the least.

"Yeah, well, I don't think we will be kissing anytime soon," Emma says, sounding far too disillusioned for her own liking.

"Why not?"

"It's… complicated," she sighs.

"Mmm… that's too bad, but it can be solved!"

Suddenly Emma has the ridiculous notion of Snow and Charming serenading whomever their precious daughter has a crush on, pressing him to give Emma a chance while singing to the lyre with birds flying around and squirrels jumping and dancing to the music.

_No more Disney movies for me_, she muses.

"Who is the lucky guy? Do I know him? Is it Neal?" Mary Margaret says, completely oblivious to her daughter's frown.

"Ugh, I really hope you guys just give it a rest, I am not in love with Neal!" She screams as she remembers that in a moment of extreme weakness just a few weeks ago, she actually cast a spell to prove to her friends that she was no longer in love with the father of her son, which, by the way, proved to be absolutely useless since she doesn't feel any different – just a little more aroused than usual, but that's not weird is it? – and Neal has yet to make an appearance manifesting any kind of romantic behavior towards her. Fortunately.

"Well, then who is it?" Mary Margaret asks opening her eyes wide and tilting her head.

"Erm…" she says, avoiding her mother's gaze and standing up from the couch. "You know what? I'm glad we had this chat, but I gotta go."

"Emma! Wait!" Mary Margaret stands up, grabs her daughter by the arm and guides her back to the couch for the second time. Emma slumps down with a loud groan.

"Look, you just have to decide if it's worth the risk and take a leap of faith. If it's meant to be, then it will happen."

"Yes, but… what if it's someone who's not supposed to like you at all? What if it's someone who is totally wrong for you; someone you know nobody would approve of?"

"Emma," Mary Margaret says placing her hands on her daughter's shoulders. "No matter whom you love, your father and I will always support you and back you up. Love is magic, Emma, and true love; well, that's the most powerful magic of all."

"My God, you're corny," Emma rolls her eyes mockingly.

"There was a time Regina used to believe that. She was the one who told me about true love," Snows remembers with a sad smile.

"What?" Emma asks in disbelief, a rush of hope running through her body.

"And it's true. Everything she said to me is true. But enough sad stories; you go and fight for your love!"

"I hope you remember this conversation, because I'm gonna have to hold you to your words."

Mary Margaret can't hide her confusion as she furrows her nose.

"I told you it's complicated," Emma says as an insistent beep interrupts them. Emma has never been so happy to hear her cell phone chime. It's the alarm; she has a meeting with the mayor in half an hour. "Hey, look at that, I really do have to go; see ya later!"

Emma decides on her way to the Mayor's office, that however it is that you know, she's going to find out.

* * *

Regina thinks that if she doesn't have to see the Sheriff ever again, it would be too soon. Her permanent arousal – yes, she finally recognizes the wetness it for what it is – and her absolute impossibility to think about anything else but sex makes talking to Emma a very difficult task. After weeks of enduring this situation, she is now able to function around other people and do more than just gape her mouth in disgust but, as usual, with the Sheriff is just different.

Her self-satisfying quest didn't solve the situation; if anything, it made it more… focused. She still imagines every fairy tale character having mind-blowing orgasms in every possible combination anytime she sees them, but every time less and less, giving way to certain blonde. And when she's alone, when there's no one around, is the Sheriff that fills her thoughts completely.

The scar on her chest has become some kind of fixation for Regina; she needs to see it, she needs to touch it. Every time they meet it takes a superhuman effort to force her eyes not to wander where they shouldn't – but they often betray her, and she just stares and leans closer to see if she can finally see what her mind is relentlessly imagining. It doesn't make sense, but seldom does anything these days.

"Regina, are you okay? I've been knocking for ten minutes."

The unexpected voice startles her as she notices the object of her fantasies peer through the door and walk towards her, but stop in the middle of the room. She quickly recovers, poker face back in place.

"Of course, dear," she said, trying a condescending tone. Her eyes are traveling from the ceiling to the window and the desk; anything to keep them away from the Sheriff's chest that, from what she could gather, looks delicious today half showing under the red shirt she is wearing. _You must look like a halfwit_, she chastises herself. _Get yourself together!_

"Are you sure? You look all flushed," Emma presses, coming closer to the desk until she is right in front of the mayor. "You know… your face is red and your breathing is all heavy; perhaps it's a fever," she says with a tone far too innocent for Regina's liking. "Have you been to the doctor?"

"No," she says curtly, her eyes betraying her once again and glancing where they shouldn't. If Emma notices it, she doesn't say anything.

"Why not?"

"I don't think I'd survive the encounter, dear."

"Oh, that. Right," she chuckles apologetically. "You should try some over-the-counter medication or something, Regina. Wouldn't want to cause an epidemic."

"Miss Swan, will you kindly leave it alone? I am perfectly fine."

"I just want to help you."

"I somehow find that very difficult to believe."

"Why is it so hard for you to trust people? To trust me?" Emma sounds hurt when posing the question and Regina almost believes her. Almost.

"You didn't seem too eager to believe in me when you accused me of the insect's murder, so let's say it's reciprocity," she says with a harsh tone. "Why are you here, anyway?"

"We have a meeting, remember?"

Damn. She had totally forgotten about that.

"Let's get on with it, then," Regina says, turning on her mayoral mode as best as she can and pointing to the chair beside Emma.

"I know you saw Ruby the other day, by the way. She told me you invited her and then she apparently stopped by to check on you," Emma says, completely ignoring the mayor's request, still standing in front of the mayor's imposing desk.

"How nice of you to bond over me."

"She also told me she doesn't remember anything of what happened that evening. She just remembers arriving to your house and then leaving, just a few seconds after, but apparently several hours had passed. Weird, don't you think?"

"Extremely. She should go to the vet, get that checked out. We wouldn't want an epidemic now, would we?" Regina curses herself and makes a mental note to adjust the time lapse the next time she erases someone's memory.

"So, Your Highness," Emma presses ignoring the remark, "care to share what happened that evening?"

"It's Your Majesty,"

"What?"

"If you are going to address me by my title, you should call me Your Majesty. You, on the other side, are the one that should be addressed as Your Royal Highness. Or Your Grace; whichever you prefer, _princess_."

"Whatever turns you on the most, _your majesty_," Emma says, prolonging the last words in a lascivious tone.

_Your Royal Highness_, Regina thinks without a doubt. _Definitely_ Your Royal Highness. And in that moment, nothing seems more alluring than Your Royal Highness, Princess Emma, in a frilly pink dress that looks absolutely horrid but incredibly adorable on her, half torn off her body by Your Majesty's eager hands as she writhes and screams in absolute pleasure.

"Oh no, dear," Regina says using all the poise she can summon not to reveal her thoughts. "A queen _never_ addresses anyone by anything other than their name, unless it's another monarch, which you are not. At least, not yet. Regretfully."

"Is that so? Well, I wouldn't mind if you called me Emma, for once."

"Don't fool yourself, it's unbecoming," she replies standing up, walking to the window and opening it a little bit. Maybe a little fresh air can clear her thoughts; this conversation is breaking havoc in her mind and her crotch.

Emma follows her standing right behind her, just a few inches away. Regina's throat catches her breath and she closes her eyes, inhaling the savior's scent. This is not good.

"Anyway, if you don't want to tell me, I'll find a way to figure it out," she says, whispering to Regina's ear. "Oh, and I brought the documents you asked for."

"I didn't ask for any documents," she said, albeit a little out of breath.

"Really? My bad, then," Emma says.

Regina feels Emma get even closer without actually touching her, as she buries her nose in her dark hair, inhaling deeply. Emma's nose travels over the mayor and settles on her neck, faintly nuzzling it.

"Why are you doing this?" Regina asks, her voice shaking as she closes her eyes and her hands grasps the windowsill so strongly that her knuckles turn white. She hates her traitorous body for reacting to Emma's advances and it annoys her to no end that her voice is giving the Sheriff full disclosure of her feelings.

"Because I can," she answers, not backing up. "Or maybe," she says, her voice a sultry whisper, "because I know you want it."

Regina turns around to face Emma, finding a new sense of confidence she hasn't felt in weeks; this she knows, this she understands. Seduction is her area of domain and she is not about to be defeated in her own court. Seduction is what she spent half her life perfecting; because seduction, she learned the hard way, is the most powerful tool to acquire power.

She scrutinizes the blonde's body from head to toes, squinting over the small space reminding between them, finally finding some sense of equilibrium in the situation. "And you?" she asks, delighted to find out that Emma's eyes are shut and her lips are trembling almost imperceptibly.

"That's for you to find out." And just like that, Emma opens her eyes, turns around and exits the office.

Regina sighs loudly as she collapses on her chair, her wavering knees too weak to support her for another second; she is far too confused for her liking and she reaches a new level of arousal she didn't think possible.

That night Regina yields to a new chapter of The Evil Queen's Handbook of Self-Indulgence and Satisfaction, conjuring up blonde princesses in ludicrous, extravagant dresses, wantonly screaming Her Majesty's name.

* * *

Regina doesn't see Emma for a few days and she is extremely grateful for it. She still doesn't completely understand what's happening and now the Sheriff issue has blown into a full-scale obsession.

She also notices her feelings are slowly changing from extreme, unabashed arousal to some kind of yearning she can't quite explain or understand. Not that the arousal is gone – it's still perpetually present – but now there's something more to it. It's like she wants something so bad but she's not sure what it is; like a missing part of her that she needs to find.

What conflicts her the most is that wanting has always been a prominent part of her life, a decisive factor in the shaping of what she is now; the person she became both before and after the casting of the curse, before and after the breaking of the curse. She's continuously yearned for things that seemed beyond her reach, but most of all, she's always craving a sense of belonging, a magical happiness she once, long ago, thought could only be the result of true love.

So what is so different now? Why does she feel overwhelmed by something she is used to feel? Why does she feel the answer to all of her questions and lifelong prayers is just an arm's length away, but when she reaches out all she can find is emptiness?

She needs to find this missing piece of the puzzle, whatever that is. And when she does, she knows everything is going to be okay; everything will make sense again.

**TBC**


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4.**

* * *

Could it be I'm suffering  
because I'll never give in?  
Won't say that I'm falling in love  
Tell me I don't seem myself  
Couldn't I blame something else?  
Just don't say I'm falling in love

**Corinne Bailey Rae**

* * *

She has too much free time, Regina realizes that afternoon. Day after day she goes to her office and pretends to work, and day after day she does nothing actually useful; she just sits there and relives every encounter that she has had with Emma since she arrived in Storybrooke. And, more often than not, Regina embellishes every encounter with breathtaking, revealing kisses that leads both of them to an orgasmic, blissful finale.

By now, she's already ravished Emma over every single available and unavailable surface of Storybrooke.

She's been having this nagging feeling that the annoying blonde is somehow connected to everything that's going on lately. Why, oh why, is said obnoxious Sheriff crawling into her mind every single second of the day?

_You know why; you know she's the answer._

And indeed she knows the answer with such certainty and clarity that she starts to wonder, and that's when it hit her. This wasn't normal: how didn't she see it before? You just don't develop feelings – romantic, lustful or whatever – overnight. Especially not for someone who represents your demise in every possible way; for someone you're supposed to hate with vehemence.

She is under a spell. She has to be: why else would she be feeling this way? She suddenly feels an irrational satisfaction fill her as she can finally explain what on earth is going on. It is then almost immediately replaced by dread and apprehension. And for the second time in just minutes, she realizes something: Regina notices with disdain that she had indeed harbored a spark of hope that perhaps all this was meant to be.

That perhaps Emma was the one who could get her out of her life-long misery, and with Henry, they could be the normal, happy, clichéd family she so much craves for.

But she should've known it was too good to be true: evil queens don't get happy endings, she knew that by now. She was, yet again, just a piece of some bigger plan that was beyond her knowledge.

Who in Storybrooke has the magic and the motivation to cast a spell on her, aside from the Sheriff herself? It isn't Rumpel's style. He aims to destroy; his magic has intent, purpose. And what would he gain from making Regina think she was in love with the savior? No. This is the sloppy work of a novice; Regina has no doubt about it.

But...

Emma wouldn't do something like that, of that she is also sure. And, wait, did she say love? No, this was just her libido running amok. Right? Just a consequence of the spell she's under.

In the end, it's Regina's utter desperation and confusion that leads her to Granny's that night: in hindsight, she should've known it was a bad idea. She doesn't want to do this. She doesn't want to manipulate Emma's friend, and a part of her feels just plain wicked erasing Red's memory with such disregard once again.

But most of all, she doesn't want to know if she's right, because whenever she's near Emma, she feels as close as happy as she's felt since she was a teenager. She feels somewhat complete even in the midst of her confusion, and she's not sure she ever wants to stop feeling like that, even if it's not real.

But she really needs to know, and if she is indeed just the victim of a spell, well, Red has it coming, even if only by proxy. And that's what she tells herself over and over again in the dark of the night before approaching the wolf.

"Hello, Red," Regina greets, walking into the deserted diner.

"Regina," she greets back impassively as she wipes the counter with a dishcloth, never raising her gaze to meet the mayor.

"I need to talk to you," she says as she sits on her usual chair.

"About what?"

"In private."

"I don't see anyone around, and actually I'm closing."

"The diner is not private. And it won't take long." Regina insists, sounding slightly too desperate for her own liking.

"Regina, I'm not going anywhere with you, especially since the details of our last meeting are not all that clear to me, so it's either here or not happening at all," Red says, finally meeting the mayor's eyes.

"Fine," she acquiesces begrudgingly. She won't remember anyway and the empty diner provides a safe environment for that purpose.

Ten minutes later, Regina leaves the diner with a foul feeling pooling in her lower stomach, and absolutely loathing herself for what just happened. She doesn't know why she said what she said and her face is flushed with anger.

She now knows for certain it's a spell: she can feel the alien magic running through her and actually can't believe she didn't see it before. All the signals where there. Perhaps she'd been too blind feeling mushy and aroused to notice.

She disgusts herself for being so weak and letting her vulnerability flow so evidently. She should've known the savior was planning something, that this newfound feeling of wellness was not genuine.

A few hours of trying to be a better person don't fool anybody, and would never override all the evil she had spread in her life, and nobody, especially not those who feel personally offended by Regina's misdeeds in some way or another, would be making her a parade for finally making the right decisions anytime soon.

Even though it was clearly not Red's intention, she now has her answer, and as she walked back home, she fell into despair and lost all hope, for who could ever learn to love an evil queen?

* * *

"Sooo… I just bumped into Neal," Ruby says as she places Emma's hot chocolate in front of her.

"Really?"

"Yep. He seems perfectly fine," Ruby says, sounding highly disappointed. "Just like you, you don't seem any different."

"I wonder what that means…" Emma says, unimpressed glance in place.

"Apparently you were right," Ruby admits.

"You don't say."

"I don't understand. Maybe the magic is not working," she says placing her elbows over the counter in front of Emma, her face resting on her interlaced fingers.

"Oh, it's working, all right," Emma mumbles to herself, for it was not true that she feels the same; that nothing has changed. Ever since that day, her usual fantasies, often chaste and mostly romantic, have turned into situations that would make Hugh Heffner blush.

Only it's not Neal the object of her affections, it's not him invading her every thought and she realized a while ago that all the unusual telltale signs of arousal whenever Regina's near started intensifying after casting the ludicrous spell.

Ruby's superhuman hearing catches the Sheriff's grumble.

"What? Emma! What aren't you telling me? Are you feeling any different? Does your body tingle when Neal is around? Do you hear fireworks and trumpets when you think about him? Tell me!" She's trying to whisper but her excitement is winning the battle against discretion.

"Ruby," she admonishes. "That's ridiculous, okay? I don't know what you're talking about." But her body definitely tingles when Regina was around. And she surely hears fireworks and trumpets when she thinks about kissing those red, delicious lips.

"What's with the dreamy face, you liar?"

"Nothing; absolutely nothing," she lies. "Hey, can you explain to me the spell we did? I think we cast it without really knowing what to expect," Emma says. She was so focused on proving her friends wrong that night that she actually had no idea of the effects of the spell.

"I'm not really sure, Belle was the one to find it and translate it, and she wasn't very specific about it, either," Ruby says apologetically. "She said something about channeling your feelings through Neal, like projecting them or something like that. Just lots of luvin' for you both! Oh, and we added a bit of, erm… desire, you know. My own personal request! But it's really not that important anyway since it obviously didn't work! Right?" Ruby asks, her eyebrows crawling to her headline in clear disbelief.

Shit.

If Regina was feeling even half of what Emma was feeling half the time, if she was projecting Emma's feelings for her, she was basically sexually harassing the mayor with her thoughts. No wonder the mayor was so compliant with her advances and no wonder she was avoiding the Sheriff so much lately.

"I don't remember saying Neal's name… do you think it may have affected someone else?" Emma asks going for an indifferent tone she's not even close to feeling.

"Ok, now you seriously have to tell me what the hell is going on," Ruby says immediately catching on her friend. "Hey, why don't we have a girls' night in this Friday! No more magic, I promise!" Ruby adds when Emma starts to refuse.

"You just want to get information out of me," Emma states.

"Well, duh!" She confirms. "Come on, I'll tell Granny to lend us a room again and we'll have a cocktail night! Just you and me; we can have some quality time 'cause I feel so neglected lately!"

"Okay, okay, let's do it," Emma finally concedes over her friend's yells of excitement. Ruby's mention of Belle actually gave her an idea and she will need Ruby's agreement to make it work. What a better way to make her compliant than a little alcohol and a few hours of BFF love.

"Hey, there's something I need to do," she says. "Gotta go, see you later!" She goes, leaving her friend slightly confused.

"Bye, girl!" Red yells.

* * *

Emma finds Belle in the library cleaning the dust off a bookshelf; according to the announcements, it will be opening to the public soon.

"Hi Emma!" She greets."Nice to see you around here."

"Hey Belle, nice to be back without a dragon to slay," she says trying to relax herself. She's not sure how to ask Gold's girlfriend a favor without being too obvious and deflecting with humor seems like a good plan. "Um, I'm looking for something, in fact."

"Sure, whatever you need; this library is actually very complete! What do you want to read? Perhaps an American classic like Mark Twain, or the Grimm Brothers' highly inaccurate fairytales?" She asks practically bouncing around the bookshelves, dragging Emma behind, obviously happy to have someone to show off.

"No… Actually I was thinking more along the lines of _Moste __Potente Potions_."

"What?" Belle asks, wrinkling her nose in confusion.

"Really?" Emma says. "Never mind. I need to find a spell."

"Sure, come on!" She says, dragging Emma to the farthest corner of the place. The bookshelves there are placed in a circular pattern, leaving only a small space for a person to enter. "I'll show you the magic books I found. I'm not done classifying them, though."

"Great," Emma says, following Belle inside the circle-shaped parallel library, watching in awe the shelves full from the floor to the ceiling.

"So what do you have in mind? A quick dish washing spell? Something to make stains disappear? Another love spell, perhaps?"

"No! No more love spells, please!" Emma begs. "I was thinking of the same spell I cast last time." That's not what she wants at all, but now she is genuinely curious of what might be going through Regina's mind and she's already in the library, anyway. "Can you tell me where you got it? What it actually does?"

"I thought it didn't work," Belle asks, confused.

"It didn't! I'm just curious," she answers, perhaps too quickly.

"Okay… let me find the book," Belle says submerging her face in a pile of old leather books. "Ah ha! Found it."

She opens the book looking for a specific page until she finds it.

"Let's see… here it is!" And she reads before proceeding with the explanation, although she seems to know it by heart. "Ok, you know magic can't create love, right?"

No, but it can make you think you're in love and that's actually worse. Emma starts to panic.

"Right," she confirms, her eyes wide open in a strange mix of hope and dread.

"Well, this spell is kind of like a romantic awakening. Only less romantic and a little bit more lustful."

"What?"

"It was Ruby's idea, I swear!" She raises her hands in defeat. "The lust part wasn't in the original spell; we added because she said, and I quote, that you weren't getting any lately because of all the time it took for you to figure out your feelings."

Emma hangs her mouth open as she listens to Belle. She will get back at Ruby, the evil vixen; no wonder she didn't give any specifics.

"So basically, the spell turns all feelings for the loved one into lust, but only after a soul-searching quest."

"Quest?" Emma asks, wondering when her life turned into a fucking Arthurian legend.

"Well, the reason why I chose this spell specifically is because we didn't know Neal's feelings for you and since you were so insistent on your lack of feelings for him, we needed to be sure," Belle explains. "So this spell reaches the mind of the caster to find their true love and then affects said true love accordingly."

"What do you mean, affects?"

"Look, the idea of the spell was to find out if he's your true love and he's clearly not, so why all the fuss?"

"I'm just wondering if it could've affected anyone else. I don't know, maybe the spell got confused or something?"

Belle actually laughs out loud.

"I sometimes forget you haven't got an inkling of knowledge of magic," she says after her laughter subsides. "Magic doesn't have a mind of it's own, Emma, it just serves the purpose of the caster."

"Which means what exactly?" Emma asks. She is getting more and more unsettled as the conversation continues.

"Which means," Belle explains patiently, as if speaking with a five year old, "that it doesn't makes mistakes: magic doesn't gets confused, it just acts out as you wish it to."

"I'm just worried there's a spell wandering around waiting to hit some unaware passerby and tricking him into thinking they're in love with me!" She almost screams in utter despair. "Or lust, whatever!"

Belle sighs good-naturedly as she tries to explain once again. "Think of it as a phone call. When you call somebody, the call doesn't just ring on the first phone around, it goes through to the person you want to reach. It's the same with magic, it always reaches its destination."

"But what if I dial the wrong number?"

"That's the beauty of it. Magic always has the right number because it has access to your mind, to your heart."

"But–"

"Emma, just relax; you were right, Neal is not your true love seeing as he is totally unaffected by the spell and apparently, so are you. So don't worry, unless you have some hidden true love here in Storybrooke, no one is going to get a sudden, unexplainable desire to bed you," she says, chuckling.

"Right…"

"You don't seem very relieved," Belle notes.

"I am, I am, I'm just still trying to wrap my mind around all this information, you know," she says faking a smile. This is oh so wrong. She forces herself to focus on the reason she was in the library to begin with. Even though she still doesn't have enough answers, she doesn't want to give away too much information. "Anyway, I was wondering if you could help me with something else… The spell we used to extract Pongo's memories with the dreamcatcher…"

"Yes, what about it? That didn't turn out very well, did it?"

"Do you think I can do something like that?"

"Shouldn't be that hard; let's find out," and she dives back into her books.

* * *

Emma doesn't mention her meeting with Belle to Ruby when they meet in the room Granny made available for them. The night stretches and between alcohol and her friend, Emma almost forgets she is about to invade Regina's privacy in the most blatant and sickening way.

When she gathers the courage, a few colorful alcoholic concoctions later, Emma turns the volume of the music up a little bit just to be sure no one will overhear them. Then, at last, she tells Ruby her suspicions.

"Ruby, I think Regina erased your memory about being in her house that night," Emma says over the music, gulping what's left of her brightly colored margarita. She briefly wonders what the hell Ruby put on the drink to make it shine that way.

"Really? But I thought you said she wasn't using magic anymore!" Ruby protests. "You said she was changing for Henry and all that crap." She is not drunk but Emma can tell she's not sober either, if the foul language is any indication.

"Yeah… but I think Regina may have a loose interpretation on the meaning of not using magic. One that actually involves using it."

"Shit, Emma, do you think she's using me to get to you?" Ruby asks, jerking her arms around in surprise. "She may be plotting the destruction of Storybrooke, for all we know!"

"Nah, she wouldn't do that to us. I don't think she's doing anything evil, you know," Emma assesses. "Maybe she's just ashamed of the conversation she had with you that night."

"Regina, ashamed? Seriously, have you met her?" Ruby says, grabbing a jar and pouring a generous amount of radioactive pink liquid in her cup and then some in Emma's. "Look, if she's not about to go on a killing rampage, let's just forget about it, please! You're ruining my Cosmo!"

"Ruby," she says with a seriousness in her voice she didn't have before. "I need to know what happened. Belle found a spell that can restore your memory."

"Emma," she whines. "I thought we were done with doing frivolous magic. It's not worth it."

"We are! After this one spell we're done, I promise!"

"Uuugh!" Ruby complains, waiving her free arm around in protest and lightly stomping her feet while at it.

Emma knows that she has won the discussion no matter how much her friend protests, so she gets her bag and starts taking out everything she needs for the spell. She places the items on top of the empty coffee table in the middle of the room, far from the alcohol and cups.

"Please?" She insists, just to be sure they will carry on with the spell. "You owe me!"

"How do I owe you?"

"Okay, you don't, but I'll owe you! A favor from the savior, it doesn't get better than that!"

Emma can't help but smile at the change of positions, she now begging for a spell and her friend accepting to do it begrudgingly.

"Why is this so important to you, Emma?" Ruby inquires, sobering up a little.

"I don't know, okay? If Regina took the trouble of erasing your memory it's because she's desperate no one to find out what you talked about."

"Yeah, but you said it was probably harmless and that Regina would never plot against us and all that pro-mayor shit you've been pulling lately. Are you lying to me?"

"No, Ruby, I'm not. I still believe she is not plotting against anybody. "

"Then what is it? Why are you so suddenly concerned with the mayor's whereabouts?"

"I don't know." Oh, but she did.

"Emma… what aren't you telling me? What's going on, is she threatening you?" Ruby's expression darkens at the possibility.

"No, Ruby, nothing like that. Okay, everything is ready, let's cast the spell."

"You already know what we're gonna see, don't you?"

"I may have an idea…"

"Emma!"

"Let's do this. If I am right, I'll tell you everything, I promise," Emma holds her friend's gaze, begging her to believe in her.

"All right, all right! What do I have to do?

"Just sit down and relax, I'll get the dreamcatcher and do some magic!" She says, turning the music off and guiding her friend to sit on the floor by the coffee table, now surrounded by four lit black candles.

When she sits next to Ruby, Emma gives her a coin she immediately recognizes.

"A good luck coin," the say at the same time.

"Where did you get it?" Ruby asks.

"Belle gave it to me, she said it helps focusing you and shit, I don't know. Now close your eyes." Emma instructs placing the dreamcatcher over Ruby's head, moving it through the wolf's hair as she saw Mr. Gold do before, while reciting the words Belle prepared for her. The candles' flames lighten up and the gadget shimmers with a yellow light as Ruby inhales loudly.

When the gadget stops glimmering, Emma takesit with her hands, stretching her arms in front of her and, closing her eyes, she wills for the memories to play.

For the next hour, they watch Ruby eating in the mayor's house, Regina confessing her problem to her as Ruby illuminates her in the art of pleasuring herself, ending with Ruby leaving and Regina casting the memory spell.

Emma puts down the dreamcatcher feeling oddly aroused when it starts glowing again, showing Regina walking inside the diner and Ruby cleaning the counter without really minding the mayor.

"Regina, I'm not going anywhere with you, especially since the details of our last meeting are not all that clear to me, so it's either here or not happening at all."

"Fine,"

"So, talk," Ruby says, annoyed.

"Red, do you know if Miss Swan has been lately engaged in some magical activities?"

"Why do you care?"

"I need to know."

"What for, to use it against her? To threaten whoever is teaching her into turning against Emma?"

"No… I…"

"I'm not telling you anything: Emma is my friend. I would never betray her, and you should know better than to barge in here demanding information. I am not one of your subjects that you can boss around."

"I think she cast a spell on me," Regina says, her voice barely a whisper. "Either that, or I may be in love with her," she continues, lowering her eyes. Those final words were spoken more to herself than to her listener.

Emma hears a gasp coming out of the real-life Ruby sitting beside her.

"She's all I can think about," Regina continues, desperation showing in her features.

"What?" The last affirmation causes Ruby to finally raise her gaze to meet Regina.

"Please, tell me."

"Wow," she says, halting her actions altogether and focusing exclusively on the mayor. "I know you're screwed up, but this reaches a whole new level of despicable, even for you!" She spits, her eyes flaming in wrath.

"I'm no–"

"Get out of here, I'm really not in the mood for your evil machinations."

They just stand there, looking at each other with fierce intensity.

"You're right," Regina says breaking the contact, in the saddest, most defeated tone Emma has ever heard the mayor express. "I won't take up any more of your time."

The last thing they see is Regina exiting the diner, erasing Ruby's memory on her way out.

They just sit there, not uttering a single word. Emma is absolutely absorbed in thoughts, arousal completely forgotten, and Ruby just breathes loudly with her hand covering her mouth.

"I can't believe it," she says, finally gaining her voice back. "I'm going to kill Regina!

"Ruby… come on. It's not that bad," Emma says, not really sure if she believes it herself.

"I feel molested! Violated! And why the hell are you still defending her? I _told_ you she was planning something!"

"She's not planning anything," Emma says, her voice low, her gaze locked on her fidgeting fingers laced upon her lap.

"Emma?" Ruby asks, taking a look at her friend. "Is this what you were expecting?"

"Kinda… Yes."

"I can't fucking believe it." Red stands up and starts pacing around the room. "Okay, enough of this shit; spill it. Now! What is going on?!"

Emma takes a deep breath and just tells her.

"I think… I think the true love… lust, or whatever it was, spell worked."

"What?" Ruby asks, confusion scrawled all over her face. "But you said Neal didn't… What does it has to do with Regina? What are you talki– Oh. My. God. Oh, no. No, no, no! This is so wrong in so many levels," she says, waving her hands desperately.

Emma remains silent, biting her lower lip and looking anywhere but her friend's eyes.

"Snow is going to kill me! This is all my fault! I should've listen to you, we should've never cast that spell. Damn it, I'm so screwed!"

"Ruby!"

"What am I gonna tell her? 'Sorry Snow, we did something stupid and now your archenemy is salivating over your daughter!'"

"Ruby, calm down. You didn't do anything."

"What do you mean? It was my idea: I told Belle to find and modify the spell and I convinced you to do it. This is so fucked up!"

"Ruby, for the last time, _calm down._' Emma stands up and interrupts her friend's pacing, grabbing her by the arms.

"Ok, ok, I'm calming down," she says, taking a few deep breaths. "How are we gonna fix this?"

"There's nothing to fix."

"Huh?"

"Ruby," Emma says, inhaling deeply. "I am in love with Regina."

"Oh, my god, this is even worse than I thought!" Ruby says as she liberates herself from her constrains and starts pacing again."'By the way, Snow, the spell we did makes your child believe she is in love with the Evil Queen. Yes, the same one who's been wanting to kill you over and over again, and actually took your daughter away from you in the first place!'" She says, miserably, mostly talking to herself.

"Will you stop freaking out?"

Emma's scream actually makes Ruby halt on the spot. She turns to the blonde and approaches her.

"Why are you so calm about it? I don't get it. I don't understand anything," she questions.

Emma returns to sit down on the floor and pats the spot beside her. Ruby reluctantly joins her, still hyperventilating and her eyes wide open in disbelief and confusion.

"This is not the result of any curse or spell: I have been in love with Regina for a long time," Emma explains as calmly as she can.

"This is so wrong," she says, covering her mouth with the palm of her hand. "How can you be in love with the Evil Queen?"

"Don't you see it? It's meant to be; _we_ are meant to be" Emma says, resigned. "And please don't call her that."

"Oh, Emma!" Ruby exclaims, comprehension finally dawning on her. "I don't now if I should hug you or slap you,"

"Maybe both? I do need a hug right now."

Ruby all but jumps to hug her friend, holding her tight in the embrace. Her arms rest against Emma's shoulders as her hands smooth blond locks, encouraging Emma to stay there for as long as she needs. Emma welcomes it as she feels tears uncontrollably starting to flow. They just sit there hugging until Emma's sniffling against her friend's neck subsides.

"I can't believe it," Ruby says as she runs her hands through blond hair in comfort. "What do you mean it's meant to be? How did this happen?"

"I don't know," she answers honestly, not raising her head from the coziness of her friend's embrace. It seems like that's her favorite phrase lately, especially regarding a certain mayor.

"Jeez, Emma," Ruby says. "What are you going to do about it?"

"I don't know," she repeats.

"Do you think she means it? What she told me?"

"I don't know," she says again, but knows as soon as the words come out of her mouth that she's lying. She sighs, then corrects herself. "Yes."

"Oh, shit."

"I know," she says for a change, causing Ruby to chuckle.

Emma finally disentangles herself from her friend and wipes the tears off her face.

"Please don't tell Mary Margaret," Emma begs."I will talk to her when the time is right." _Or when I stop being an absolute wimp._

**TBC**


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5.**

* * *

"You don't know how long I have wanted  
to touch your lips and hold you tight  
You don't know how long I have waited  
and I was gonna tell you tonight  
But the secret is still my own  
and my love for you is still unknown  
Alone"

Heart

* * *

Two can play this game, but only Regina will win it. A scrawny, uncoordinated savior has nothing in her. On her. _Damn_. Perhaps Regina is not above a lecherous, sexual encounter right before finishing Emma. Didn't the black widow eat her mate after coupling? Well, she's already a widow and heaven knows she's black, so it suits her. It's going to be difficult to explain it to Henry, but that's not important right now, not when there are more pressing matters at hand.

She already has a plan. Kind of. She knows the two idiots are planning something to return to the Enchanted Forest, she just doesn't know exactly what. But whatever they are planning, she will find out, steal whatever portal they managed to conjure and then she will leave them all behind. After having her wicked way with Emma. A few times if possible, thank you very much. And then she will take Henry with her and he will have no other choice but to love her and only her.

Stupid Charmings. Stupid Emma.

Everything will be all right as long as she manages to keep her mind away from the Sheriff long enough to concentrate on stealing the portal. Damn Emma for doing this to her; everything would be just easier if she didn't feel reason and sanity emptying her body every time the Sheriff is near.

Jeez. If she feels this way right now, she doesn't even want to fathom what will happen when – not if – they actually touch.

Her frustration over another night wasted following the Charmings into nothing useful at all is starting to take a toll on her. As soon as she gets home, she'll take a bath. Yes, another one, and yes, she will be thinking of Emma when she tries that much coveted G-Spot stimulation exercise she read about, there's no point denying that.

* * *

Emma is wandering around town on her usual Tuesday night patrol. Like every Tuesday, she gravitates around Mifflin Street under the excuse of being sure no angry mob is going to attack certain mayor again. The truth is she feels bad about Regina being alone; she wants to check on her, make sure she is all right, that the lights are still on and nothing alarming or out of the ordinary is happening inside the her house.

Sometimes, like tonight, she leaves the cruiser at the station. She needs to feel fresh air against her face; she needs to sort things out. She still doesn't understand why everyone seems to be so adamant on going back to the Enchanted Forest. The brief time she was over there, she wanted to come back every second of it. The only ogres and giants she wants to deal with are concrete and cement ones, and the only food she is willing to kill before eating are, perhaps, farm trout on a Sunday afternoon spent fishing with Henry.

But her largest concern is, as per usual, Regina. What will happen to her over there? At least in Storybrooke she is protected by modern-day laws that, thankfully, don't allow executions on evil queens, but in the Enchanted Forest, a land of fairytales were laws are arbitrary and monarchs just do their will, what will be of her then? Were her parents even planning on taking Regina back? It wouldn't surprise her that part of the secrecy with the beans was precisely to actually leave the unwanted behind, as Mary Margaret hinted before.

Walking right in front of the white mansion, she turns her head in confusion when she sees all the lights are out. That's not normal; Regina always leaves the foyer light lit, at least since the curse broke. Emma is considering the possibility of approaching the manor when she bumps into someone. Her instincts kick in and she grabs the figure before they fall down, when a familiar smell reaches her. Regina.

"I see your coordination skills haven't improved, Sheriff" she says, breathing close to Emma's ear, sending a shiver through her whole body.

"Hi, Regina," Emma answers tilting her head back to stare at the mayor's eyes.

"You can let go now, dear," Regina says as Emma realizes she is still holding the mayor's waist. She also realizes Regina is doing absolutely nothing to get rid of her hold.

"Uh…" is all she can mutter.

"Miss Swan, is there something I can help you with?"

"Um, no. I was just making nightly rounds and all," Emma clears her throat trying not to sound so shaken. Regina's smell, her skin are so distracting she feels her brain turning to mush.

"I see. Any particular reason why your hands are still on me?"

"I… Uh, yeah… You were going to fall and…" Emma abandons all coherent thought as her nose skims Regina's jaw and trails down her neck, absorbing the intoxicating smell emanating from her.

She's encouraged when hears the mayor hitch a breath; her lips trail back, stopping right on the corner of the Regina's mouth.

"Regina?" She mutters against the brunette's lips.

"Yes," she answers, breathlessly.

"What are we doing?" She asks, struggling to get air to her lungs.

"I am not doing anything, dear."

"Yet."

Emma moves her lips through the remaining length between them and the mayor's. She doesn't kiss Regina, just lingers above, breathing the same air, giving the mayor one last chance to withdraw. Feeling no resistance, her teeth seek Regina's lower lip and nibble it slowly; she sucks in a bit of air as Emma teases her, her chest raising and falling rapidly.

Emma feels a hand tangle through her hair, pushing her even closer to the mayor, and another one rest just on top of the scar in her chest, caressing it lightly; Regina swipes her tongue across Emma's lips, asking for permission. The Sheriff parts them welcoming the incursion, completely unable to resist; her tongue seeks Emma's lips and captures them in a long overdue kiss, exploring her, claiming her.

The Sheriff kisses back with equal force but always following Regina's lead, letting her take control.

Emma has felt nothing like this before. Every cell of her body awakens in a sudden jolt of pleasure and utter _fulfillment_, her body pumping something like liquid happiness – or something equally ridiculous – through her veins; her knees are weak and trembling slightly, her toes are curling in delight and she's feels lightheaded.

Regina's lips are even softer than she imagined and as they meet in feverish desperation, Emma wonders why she never dared to kiss the mayor before.

She strengthens her hold on Regina's waist, not trusting her hands to stay put, just melting to the sensation the other woman is eliciting. The world around her disappears, all there is left is Regina… and it feels just _right_.

And for the first time in her life, Emma believes, truly believes, in fairytales.

It's over too soon and she feels Regina untangle her arms from around her neck, leaving her blond hair disheveled as she takes a few steps back away from the Sheriff.

"Good night, Sheriff Swan," she says, crushing their lips together again in one last short kiss that left Emma thinking that if she could just kiss the mayor forever, she wouldn't need anything else.

"Good night, Madam Mayor," Emma whispers as Regina turns around, walking straight to her house without bothering to look back.

Emma groans loudly in frustration and just stands there for a few minutes, her chest heaving and her body on fire, before waling to her home to take a much-needed cold shower.

* * *

It's a beautiful night in Storybrooke. The stars are shining bright above, the breeze seems to whisper Regina's name filled with love promises, and the birds are singing in the sycamore trees… Okay, that last part may not be true, but Emma feels so elated she can hardly concentrate on the reality in front of her, and the song just seems appropriate.

Three days have passed since 'The Kiss' and she still feels like walking on sunshine. Love songs fill her head and her thoughts form in metaphors; she's even close to burst into songs just to share her happiness with the world.

She's on her way to Storybrooke High School where they will be celebrating the graduation of the first senior class ever. The students received their diploma earlier that day and the town was throwing a reception in their honor.

Emma's wearing black jeans, high-heel, knee-high black boots and a white shirt that hugs her torso revealing just enough to leave wanting more, but not enough to be obscene. Black pea coat guarded her from the cold and her straight, blond hair flowed down her back. A special outfit selected just for the occasion: simple but effective.

She enters the school's assembly hall, scanning it to find dark brown eyes but finds hazel ones staring right at her, Ruby waiving her hand and signaling for Emma to go meet her on one of the high tables in the room.

"You look amazing!" Ruby says over the loud conversations taking place around them when Emma takes off her coat, grabbing a strange looking canapé from a waiter that passes by them. "Trying to knock out our distinguished, illustrious and not so respectable mayor?"

"Ruby," she admonished, half mocking, half serious. "That's the idea, but I don't see her anywhere."

"Don't worry, she's prone to dramatics. She'll be fashionably late and will make an unforgettable entrance. It's the same every time," Ruby assures her. "What's your plan?"

"Huh?"

"To pursue Regina's affections!"

"Pursue her affections? Why did you all get so medieval when the curse broke?" Emma laughs. "I don't know, charm her with my amazing looks?"

Ruby raises an eyebrow and scoffs. "Really? If that's all it takes, she would've been swooning a long time ago, Emma!"

"Hey, how do you know she's not?" She asks, playfully.

"Humph, doubtful," Ruby says.

Emma doesn't want to talk about it, it makes her really nervous, so she immediately changes the subject to something she knows Ruby will be more interested in.

"This isn't the same without Belle," she says.

"Do you think she'll ever get her memories back?" Ruby asks, her face grimacing.

"Magic is your area, not mine," Emma answers and as Ruby starts explaining how magic used to work in the Enchanted Forest, she loses trail of the words.

Emma tries to distract herself with conversation, canapés and champagne, but she's bored and anxious and she can't concentrate on a single word Ruby is saying. She fidgets as she waits for Regina to make her grand appearance, and when the mayor finally makes her entrance, she is already a little tipsy.

Feeling the other woman's presence, Emma just turns and connects her gaze with the mayor's as she crosses the hall's doors. She's absolutely stunning in a perfectly tailored burgundy dress that Emma just wants to rip off her body.

Ruby, who doesn't feel Regina's presence, just keeps talking and hovering around Emma for a few seconds until an unusual silence fills the place previously filled with the loud, happy voices of the students and their parents, as everybody turns to see the Evil Queen entering the place.

Regina breaks the gaze she has on the Sheriff and turns around to try and mingle with the crowd while the guests return to their conversations, leaving Emma slightly disappointed.

Regina, as mayor of Storybrooke, is required to make a speech. Short and straightforward, she congratulates the seniors on their efforts and invites them to pursue their dreams and continue to study, or some mayoral crap – Emma's not really listening. She's far too busy detailing and imprinting in her memory every inch of Regina's body.

The brunette greets a few people and waits until a student is having her turn on the microphone to slip out of the place unnoticed. Emma, of course, notices the escape and follows Regina into the night.

"Leaving so soon?" she asks, trotting after the mayor.

"I already made the required appearance, I don't see the point in lengthening the suffering," Regina answers, not bothering to look at Emma as she continues her way.

"Yours or theirs?" She asks, shoving her hands inside the pockets of the coat, finally catching up.

"I don't see the point of imposing my presence where it's not wanted."

"Not all of us suffer with your presence, you know," Emma says, solemnly.

"I haven't the faintest idea of what you're referring to."

"Right," Emma says, indulging Regina. "Come with me," she says, taking her hand and tugging her the opposite way.

"Where?"

"Wherever; the night is beautiful."

"It's freezing, miss Swan, and you are drunk."

"Hardly on both statements. I'll keep you warm, and I'm not even remotely tipsy," she says, that last part more for her sake than for the mayor's, pulling her with a little more force.

"Your breath says otherwise," Regina retorts.

"Do you have somewhere else you have to be?"

"My bed awaits me."

"Your cold, lonely bed? Not really something to look forward to," Emma knows she is pushing too hard, but alcohol gives her confidence. The worst that could happen is she wins a slap in her face and/or a black eye, nothing she hasn't deal with before. But what she can win is worth all the slaps and black eyes in the world.

Much to her contentment, Regina just lets out a long, suffering sigh but allows herself to be lead by the blonde, and for a while, they just hold hands and walk until reaching their destination.

"Why are we in the docks, Miss Swan?"

"Because it's romantic? And we can be away from prying eyes…"

"And why, pray tell, would we want that?"

"Because Mary Margaret is nosy as hell, and Ruby has this keen instinct to be in the wrong place at the wrong time if you don't want her to find something out. And," she adds with a pause for effect, "if they're around, I can't do this." She stands in front of Regina invading her personal space. She wraps her arms around the mayor's neck, bringing their bodies close and their faces closer together.

"I can assure you, Miss Swan, that whatever your friends and family think of you, or me, for that matter, is of little concern to me" Regina says, locking her gaze on Emma's lips and wetting her own with the tip of her tongue.

"Oh, I don't care what they think," she assures, leaning even closer. "I just don't want to give them a show," she says, feeling Regina's arms wrapping around her waist in a tight hold.

"A show, Miss Swan? Your unwanted, yet guileless groping is hardly a show."

"Really? Unwanted?"

"Really," the mayor says, removing her gaze off Emma's lips, locking it with green eyes, now dark in lust. "There's absolutely nothing I want from you that you can give me."

"Oh, I think we both know that's not true," she says, grinding her hip against Regina's eliciting a soft moan from her, contradicting everything she just said.

"Are you going to leave Storybrooke with your insufferable parents never to come back?"

"You know that's not an option."

"Are you going to let Henry spend some nights with me?"

"Erm…"

"Then I'm sure I don't want anything from y– "

The words get lost in her mouth when Emma's lips capture Regina's in an urgent kiss. She gets bolder as her hands grow relentless, trying to feel every inch of the mayor's skin. The dress, although beautiful, is more of a hindrance at this point and now Emma truly wants to yank if off.

Regina, facing no such conundrum, rushes her hands under Emma's shirt after unbuttoning her coat, one of them reaching up to cup her breasts, fondling them in turn, her nipples hardening instantly, leaving Emma panting. The other hand roams, fingertips against bare flesh reaching the small of her back and dipping past the waistline of black jeans, resting perhaps a little too low to be considered decent.

Emma smiles against Regina's lips and captures them again, abandoning all hope on feeling the mayor, surrendering instead to skillful hands roaming through her skin.

Without breaking contact, Emma guides Regina to the closest bench, pushing her on top of it, immediately straddling her thighs. She takes off her coat and unceremoniously throws it to the floor behind her, clasping her hand through brown hair as she feels Regina's hands, one roaming on her back, the other one gently stroking the scar in her chest – what is it with Regina and the scar, anyway?

The mayor lunges forward, her mouth capturing Emma's neck. Her tongue traces the line of the Sheriff's collarbone sliding downwards, biting the base of her throat, causing Emma to arch her back and strengthening her hold on the mayor's brown hair.

A strong burst of wind knocks them out of their stupor, forcing them to remember where they are. Emma feels the cold hitting her through her light shirt and starts to shiver.

"We should head back," Regina says, and Emma just nods as she disentangles from the other woman and picks up her discarded garment from the floor.

It's not fair, Emma thinks as they walk in silence back to town, that Regina looks so composed and coiffed when she herself feels like a mess of run make-up, disheveled hair and rumpled clothes.

When they arrive to the mansion, Regina stands in front of her door hesitantly as she reaches for her keys, jangling them in her hand for a while.

"I'm not inviting you in, Miss Swan," she finally says, turning around to face the Sheriff.

"It's ok," Emma accepts with a shy smile, pressing Regina against the white door to give her one last, lingering kiss.

And for the second time in a week Emma is left frustrated, with her groin throbbing vigorously, reminding her of what had just been denied.

* * *

Damn.

Regina closes the door behind her and slumps against the door, rolling down to the floor, gulping oxygen into her lungs. Her hands and knees are trembling and she feels full of desire, arousal pooling on her groin as a strong reminder of what almost happened and she ultimately refused. For a second time.

She feels exhausted and curses herself for her weakness and the distraught that denying the Sheriff causes in her body.

If Emma wants to seduce Regina, she will let her; recent events prove that she is not able to resist the blonde anyway. She already has the upper hand, she is aware of the Sheriff's spell; she knows this whole situation is just pretend but she just doesn't know what the blonde is aiming for.

But that's not a matter of importance right now, it's all a lie and as soon as she figures what spell Emma casted, she is going to undo it and all the warm, arousing feelings she has every time she's near the Sheriff will disappear.

She now knows about the beans and in just a few weeks, the ones she stole will be ready to use. She will destroy the remaining crops, activate the trigger and leave them all behind with no escape route, and then, they will all just disappear along with the town that has been her home for the last three decades.

She doesn't have any other choice, she really doesn't. And she will keep repeating that to herself until she believes it. Or until she's back in the Enchanted Forest with Henry, whichever happens first. She doesn't have any other choice; she doesn't have any other choice. With them gone, Henry will love her, and only her, again. She doesn't have any other choice.

It doesn't matter if she has to start from scratch; she will have Henry with her, and together she would have another opportunity. She doesn't have any other choice, she just wants to be happy, and she believes, given the chance, they can find happiness together. The words seem oddly familiar and make her heart ache.

She doesn't have any other choice. Does she?

**TBC**


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6.**

* * *

"You owe me nothing for giving the love that I give

You owe me nothing for caring the way that I have

I give you thanks for receiving it's my privilege

And you owe me nothing in return"

Alanis Morissette

* * *

Emma is certain she's never felt so happy in her life. She wants to prance around and share her happiness with the entire world. She feels like a teenage in love for the first time; it's utterly pathetic but she can't bring herself to care.

"You seem happy this morning," Mary Margaret says, sipping coffee out of her cup.

"So do you. What's going on?" She asks, doing her best effort to deviate her mother's attention from her.

"The beans are almost ready," she beams.

"Oh…" And just like that, her happiness dissipates and a sense of dread fills her.

"Emma, I know you didn't like it there, but that's not how it's going to be, I promise," Mary Margaret assures. "We now have the power to take back the land! And we also have knowledge to make things more hospitable for everybody. I will do anything I can to make you a bathroom with inner plumbing."

Emma smiles at her mother and then shudders remembering those few days in that horrid land they call home.

"It's not only that…"

"I know sweetie, but that's where we belong, that's where you belong."

"Just because I was born there?" She asks. "What about Henry? What will he do there, sword fight and eat and boss everybody around all day long?"

"He will be educated, Emma, he will become the king someday," Mary Margaret explains patiently.

"And when he pisses someone off and they declare a war to protect their honor? Then what? He'll get killed in some stupid battle that makes no sense." Emma says, starting to pace around the kitchen.

"Emma, that's not going to happen."

"Really? Can you guarantee that? Because if I've learned something about that world is that there's always tragedy and mysterious assassinations and plots, sorcerers and–"

"Evil queens?" Mary Margaret interrupts.

"Yes, evil queens! And evil kings and ogres! Why would I want to subject my son to that when he can have a peaceful life here?"

Mary Margaret sighs shaking her head.

"Emma… I've been thinking about it a lot. I think we are going to give her the chance to stay in Storybrooke or come back with us and live in Rumpel's cell. I just need to run it by David first to see what he thinks."

"Just like that? Those are her choices?" Emma's voice is increasing and she's now on the close to screaming. "What gives you the right to be her judge, jury and executioner? And what about Gold? Or King George? Or all the other so-called evil doers? Are you putting all three of them together in a cell so they can plan god knows what?"

She is trying to remain calm because no matter the circumstances, the woman in front of her _is_ her mother, but it's proving to be very difficult to achieve.

"Emma, we are the sovereigns of these people, of this land!"

"No, you _were_ the kings of the Enchanted Forest, and the last time I checked we were still in Storybrooke, where we have laws, courtrooms and police officers," she says, losing any vestige of control she managed to keep. "This is not right; don't expect me to just accept your terms because you say that's the way it is. How many people did you kill back then?"

"That was different!"

"Why, because you did it in the name of 'true love'?" She asks, air-quoting with her hands.

"Yes!"

"Have you ever considered that whatever Regina did, however misguided, was also in the name of love? That doesn't make her right, I know. But it doesn't make _you_ right and it certainly doesn't give any of you the right to be judging her! Them," she adds quickly.

"What are you saying, Emma, that your father and I should be behind bars also? That we should just let Regina and George and whoever else roam free despite of their crimes?"

"No, Mary Margaret," she says softly, seeing her mother's eyes on the verge of tears. "I'm saying that there's an absolute double standard whenever it comes to you and when it comes to them. I understand that's the way it was there, but now you know better than a place where only the fittest survive.

"If that's the place you want me to go back, then I'm not doing it. I'm not raising my kid in a society that seem medieval, to say the least; I don't want him to learn what you are teaching me right now. I don't want him to grow up believing that just because he was lucky enough to be born in the right family, he can get away with doing whatever he wants, while other's actions, being the same, are being harshly punished."

"Okay Emma, so what do you propose?" Mary Margaret says, clearly exasperated.

"I don't know," she says, running her hands through her hair; _I just don't want to leave her_. "Maybe we can establish some kind of legal code for everybody?"

"Sometimes I don't know what you expect from me." Mary Margaret walks to the living room and sits down on the couch, burying her face in her hands. Emma takes this as a dismissal so she grabs her jacket and leaves.

* * *

Regina is sitting on the bench in her garden, contemplating the stars with a glass of apple cider in her hand. It had been a while since she took the time to just sit and think.

She feels a familiar tingle through her skin and she knows Emma is near even before she hears the distant footsteps.

"Miss Swan, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Hi," Emma says, sitting next to her.

Regina turns to face Emma raising an eyebrow.

"What are you doing?" Emma asks.

"I believe I asked first."

"I wanted to talk to you."

"Whatever about?"

"Henry? I don't know, anything," she sighs. "I don't want to be around them right now."

Regina senses the aggravation in the other woman and decides not to push the issue. Whatever is bothering her is not her concern, anyway. And right now, with the Sheriff so close to her, all she can be bothered to care about is the warm feeling pooling on the pit of her stomach.

"Are you sure it's talking what you rather be doing with your mouth, Miss Swan?"

"Um… I…" Emma blinks repeatedly. It still amazes Regina how easy is to throw Emma off balance.

"I can't say that eloquence is something you inherited from your charming parents," Regina chuckles, standing up. "I just finished dinner; let's go inside so I can feed you some leftovers."

"Oh," Emma says, following Regina. "Ok."

But they don't make it inside the house. Emma grabs Regina by the arm and yanks her until their bodies are pressed, kissing her hard and leaving her breathless.

"I changed my mind," she says against Regina's neck, traveling down to suck on her pulse point, beating wildly against her lips. "I'm not hungry. I mean, I am, but not… Ugh, whatever," Emma says, abandoning any attempt on being seductive.

Without thinking, Regina's hands immediately climb over Emma's body and tangle in blond hair, gently tugging as she responds to the kiss in full force.

Emma walks forward pushing Regina with her until she is slumped against the back door of the house. Her hands find the hem of a perfectly tailored dress shirt and slither forward searching for skin. She finds laced-covered breasts and ghosts above them making Regina squirm in anticipation and eagerness, lunging her chest towards the Sheriff's hands.

Regina breaks the kiss and takes a deep breath, taking a moment to assess the woman in front of her, whose chest is heaving, hair is completely disheveled and eyes dark in desire.

Their lips are back together in a desperate attempt to fill each other's mouths. Emma's hands abandon Regina's breasts, causing Regina to whimper, and travel to her back in an attempt to unclasp her bra. Quickly losing her patience, she tugs with her elbows until her shirt rips open, making it much easier to unhook the offending garment. Regina thinks of complaining for a second, but decides this is much more important than her shirt and says nothing.

Emma's lips leave the Mayor's to start an excruciatingly slow trail down her neck, her clavicle, her chest, reaching hardening buds over loose lace. Her hands lose no time in finding the slack's waistline unclasping the button and lowering the zipper.

With a single, smooth movement Emma slides her hand inside Regina's pants and feels the moisture on the cloth between the mayor's legs. Regina moans breathlessly and suddenly, Emma's body stiffens and she stops all movement.

"What's wrong?" Regina asks, confusion dawning in her eyes.

Emma just breathes for a few moments, her chest heaving heavily.

"Before we continue, I have a confession to make," she finally says catching her breath, slithering her hand out of the warmth of Regina's core and resting her arms around Regina's waist, keeping her close.

Regina says nothing but raises her eyebrow, waiting for the blow to fall.

"I may or may not have done something very, very stupid."

"I hardly see the confession there, dear."

"Regina, I'm serious."

"As am I."

"Look, I made a mistake. A huge one. I need to tell you before we… you know…"

"Uh huh."

She takes a deep breath and looks at Regina in the eyes. "I know."

"You're going to have to be a bit more specific if you want me to comprehend the situation."

"I know everything. I know about your… erm… exacerbated libido, about your fantasies, about your talks with Ruby."

Regina's face, just seconds ago furiously flushed, is drained of all color, her nose flaring and her eyes not blinking. She is suddenly feeling very cold as she pushes Emma away from her and starts buttoning her pants.

"Remember the 'I did something stupid' part? Please listen to me…"

"Get out of my house," Regina says with a calm, stoic voice that doesn't reflect at all what she's feeling at the moment.

"Regina, please, don't do this."

"Get. Out. Now," she repeats, her voice barely a whisper.

"No. I'm not leaving until you listen to me."

"It may not seem like it for you, but I do have some dignity left. Do not expect my understanding after you humiliate me in my own home, after you violate my privacy–"

"Regina, you did the same thing with Ruby!" Emma interrupts.

"I had no other choice! What's your excuse?" Every chance of poised stoicism, of keeping it together for the sake of appearances, is now abandoned. "Do you think I _wanted_ to talk to that girl? To tell her what I was going through? I don't have one single person to talk to in this whole damn town. Do you even know how it feels to have you in my mind every damn second of the day? Do you know wh–"

"Yes, Regina, I do! Because you _are_ in my mind every second of the day!"

"Huh…" she scoffed in disbelief. "Spare me your sanctimonious Charming speech; I don't want to hear it. If this is your idea of retribution, Miss Swan, congratulations, you've won; you finally got me. You took my son, my only chance of happiness and now… and now…" she can't say it out loud, it's too painful, the shattered hope she shouldn't have had in the first place. The sob that comes out of her mouth is raw, desperate. "Please. Just leave."

"You don't even know what happened! Let me–"

"You cast a spell on me! What more is there to know? And if that wasn't enough, you got yourself around a private conversation!"

"No, actually, that's not what happened at all!"

"Leave me alone!" she says with a murderous glaze.

"No! Not until y– "

"As you wish, then," she interrupts, moving her arms in a flourish. A purple smoke quickly appears and wraps Regina, making her disappear a few seconds after.

Knowing Emma cast a spell on her was one thing but what Regina hadn't known, and felt like a bucket of cold water to her face, was that Emma was aware of the very private and very embarrassing conversations she's had with Red. She had lost many things over the years, but she had hoped that at least her embarrassment was her own.

* * *

"Crap, this is so unfair! Stupid magic!" Emma screams to the air. "She's not disappearing on me again, fuck!" She yells some more, standing alone in the middle of the night.

She runs to her car unsure of where to go. "Like hell I'm just gonna let you vanish," she said to no one in particular, starting the Bug.

* * *

"Regina, I know you're there, come out!"

It's 2 am when Emma finally realizes Regina's hiding place, and for the past hour, she had been kicking walls, pushing stones and screaming, trying to find a way inside the inner part of the Mills Vault in the cemetery, only to be left with sore feet and aching arms.

"Please, Regina," she said defeated, tears pouring out of her eyes as she rolls down the wall, wrapping her knees with her arms and throwing her head down between her folded legs.

"I need you to listen to me," she tries yet again. "I fucked up, I know I did something stupid, some magic, and perhaps this is the price I have to pay, but please! I don't want you to think that I did it to humiliate you or harm you in any way."

She's not going to give up, they've come all this way; she can't just throw it away.

"Look, I get it. You don't trust me, and you blame me for ruining your happiness. But the thing is I don't want to be just another person in the list of people who've betrayed you." Emma says. If this is the last chance she's going to have to tell Regina how she feels, she's going to go all the way. "Can't you see that I care about you? Can't you see that I…" Emma can't say it. Not yet, not if she isn't facing her. So she takes a deep breath and continues.

"I think you're just too fucking afraid to accept that maybe something good is finally happening to you, that someone is willing to put their hands in the fire for you," Emma says, sniffling. "I didn't cast that stupid true love spell to ridicule you; I did it in a moment of extreme weakness to prove everybody that Neal is not my true love. It was stupid and it backfired and I know now that I should've told you sooner, but I was afraid, you know? Afraid of your reaction, afraid of what it really meant, afraid that I would have to confront this fucking situation sooner than I would've wanted."

Emma throws her head back in despair, softly hitting the wall behind, and scrubs her face with her hands.

"What I don't understand is why you didn't say anything to me either. You knew I casted the spell, you knew what was going on." Emma is mostly talking to herself now, trying to put her thoughts in order. "You just wanted to use it against me, to se me finally fall, didn't you? Well, then I guess you are the one who won, Regina, because I _am_ in love with you. I'd rather see this town burn to ashes before someone hurts you again. And it's okay, you know? You owe me nothing in return; it's been my privilege."

She knows now that the spell was the single worst idea in the long list of bad ideas she's had since she arrived to Storybrooke. Any chance, real or imaginary, she ever thought she had of being with Regina is now completely vanished. She shouldn't be surprised, really; until that day, no one has ever wanted her. Only Henry, but he was a kid, he didn't know any better. Why should this time be any different?

"You don't want to talk to me, I get it, but here's the thing. Whatever feelings you have, they're your own; you know perfectly well magic can't create love."

She wipes the tears away and stands up to abandon the place she's been occupying for the last hours, predawn light hitting her red eyes on her way out.

She's done begging.

* * *

Regina is on the other side of the wall, her forehead against the cold tile. She refuses to cry; no _Charming_ is worth her tears. Not again.

But… A true love spell?

TBC


	8. Chapter 7

**AN. **Erm… changed the rating. If you are not a mature audience, don't read.

Oh, and spoilers (somewhat) of S02E22. If you haven't seen it, most of this will probably make little sense.

I changed my mind at the last minute, so this chapter is mostly un-beta'd, sorry for the mistakes.

* * *

**Chapter 7. **

Whenever I'm alone with you  
You make me feel like I am free again  
Whenever I'm alone with you  
You make me feel like I am clean again

Whatever words I say  
I will always love you

The Cure

* * *

Regina spends two days hidden in her family mausoleum. She's hungry, dirty, cold, and slightly heartbroken, if she's honest about it. She thinks she's supposed to feel aggravated, enraged even, but for some reason she cannot completely fathom, she just feels empty.

She thought being away from the blonde would give her the clarity she needed, would make her forget those ludicrous thoughts of having someone by her side, of feeling something other than self-loathe and abhorrence towards every single person, and maybe—

… _then love again…_

How is she supposed to do that? She doesn't know how to love; every time she tried to do it, it sent her further down towards a path of self-destruction that managed to ruin not only her, but everyone around and, particularly, the objects of her affections.

A part of her want to hurt Emma as badly as she's wanted to hurt Mary Margaret, but another part of her — the bigger part, actually — just wants these feelings to be real.

_Ridiculous_.

But Emma… that infuriating Sheriff searched for her and begged her for hours to come out. What was is she said about a true love's spell? She is so confused, her head hurts and she is not thinking straight. Does she want Emma? Does she love Emma?

She needs some fresh air. She takes a walk on the outskirts of the town where she is certain she won't run into anybody. Her stroll leads her to the docks, where she sees Snow and David talking and it catches her attention when she hears her name. Disguising herself as a fisherman, she comes close to them and listens.

"Jail cell? I don't think so." So that has been her plan. Regina's been right all along, Emma was just playing her. And just like that, in mere seconds, her walls grow back again, her second-guessing about the blonde's intentions just disappears and rage consumes her.

_You were right, mother. _

Regina is not going to let Miss Swan get away with deception. If there is someone in this universe that knows about revenge it's her, and she will get her revenge on Emma, even if it's the last thing she does. Apparently Regina had been right all along; she does not have any other choice after all.

She goes back to her office and is in the middle of pondering, plotting and scheming when certain Captain Hook makes an appearance with a very interesting proposition.

* * *

To say Emma is worried is the understatement of the year. After two days of having no news of Regina, she decided to look for her again, even risking the mayor's unspeakable wrath. But her house was empty, just like the previous fifty times she'd been there, and so was the Mills Vault; Emma could no longer feel her presence there nor in any other place she'd go looking for her.

Finally, after desperation has taken the best of her common sense, she decides to look for her in her office, only to find it empty — how surprising — and peculiarly incriminating.

"We have to find her," Emma says to David and Mary Margaret, her eyes wide open in preoccupation.

"Why would we want to help Regina?" David says with a scowl.

"Because I owe her," Mary Margaret answers softly. "After what I did to Cora."

Emma hugs her mother tightly, her eyes full of gratitude and, for the first time, she actually acknowledges Mary Margaret as her mother.

"Fine," David says, defeated. "Rumpel still owes me a favor, maybe he knows something. Let's go find him."

Even though David is not very convinced, Emma has no time to dwell on it, so she quickly thanks him too and ushers them both out of the mayoral office. They have a queen to find.

* * *

Emma's face is haunted. She can't eat, she can't sleep, she can't function until Regina wakes up. The Blue Fairy said it was just a matter of time, but nothing happens and it's been almost a day. She feels grateful with her mother for finding Regina; a redeeming act in the midst of the pain of losing Neal and the distress of Regina's uncertain situation.

She's been sitting down next to her on Mary Margaret's bed for the past hours, her back against the headboard, glancing at the inert form beside her every few minutes, as if sheer will was able to wake the mayor up.

But every minute comes slower than the one before and she is going out of her mind. She swears that the clock is on the verge of going backwards. What if Regina doesn't wake up? What if she does and wants to kill Emma? What if—

Emma's thoughts are interrupted by a soft groan coming from below her; Regina finally opens her eyes and Emma feels she can breathe again. But like every happy moment in her life, it's short-lived and soon replaced by apprehension when Regina looks at her full of despise. The mayor can barely move and yet still manages to death glare Emma, sending shivers through her spine, and not in the good sense. But at least she's alive, and that's all that matters for now.

"Regina, I—"

"Save it, Miss Swan," she says with a raspy voice. "I don't want to hear it." Regina breathes sharply trying to turn her body around so she's not facing Emma, but a sob escapes her lips and her face contorts in pain. "I don't know why exactly you decided to save my life from those lunatics, but I'd rather die than owe you anything."

"Well, too bad, Madam Mayor, because there's no way you can run away from me this time and I'm not going anywhere until you listen to me," she says, not caring that she is taking advance of Regina's weak state.

"What do you want from me? There truly isn't anything else you can take away," she says, throwing her arm on top of her eyes blocking the light and, incidentally, the Sheriff.

"You don't get it, do you? I don't want to take anything from you, Regina. I want _you_," Emma says with a pleading, broken voice.

"I find that hard to believe, with you casting a spell on me, tricking me into believing something that wasn't real. Just tell me, what were you trying to accomplish? Because for the life of me, I can't figure it out."

"I didn't cast a spell on you, I cast it on Neal! Or at least that's what we thought at the moment; I already told you this."

That catches Regina's attention, who removes her arm and raises her gaze to meet the Sheriff's. That gives Emma the nudge she needs to pour her heart out, and she does.

"Look, I don't know if I dialed the wrong fucking number or what, but this is not what I wanted."

"What are you talking about?"

So Emma blurts everything out in a single breath, afraid that if she doesn't finish her side of the story, Regina will just vanish again in the middle of it. She explains everything from the day they casted the spell, why she ended up extracting Ruby's memories and when she realized that Regina was the one being affected by it.

"Regina," she says after inhaling a long breath, seeing that the mayor is not saying anything and grateful, oh so grateful, that she is still lying on the bed and not dissipating through a puff of purple smoke.

"The reason why I knew nothing would happen to Neal with the damn spell was because I am certain I'm not in love with him; I can't be. Not if I'm in love with you."

Regina is still looking at her; her face is softer, the scowl still in place, but somehow diminished.

"And you know this because of the spell," she says, incredulous.

Emma slides down onto the bed to level with the mayor's gaze, looking at her with unfaltering eyes. She needs Regina to believe her.

"No. I've known since forever."

Regna closes her eyes for a minute and then presses her arm back on top of them. For the longest time, they stay there, Emma fidgeting and Regina motionless except for her chest rising and falling back heavily.

"Say something," Emma begs.

The past few weeks have been an emotional whirlwind for both of them and Emma is afraid that she's not going to be able to deal with it any longer, that she will fall down and spiral towards an abyss where she won't be able to stand back again.

She's said a lot of things to Regina. Hurtful things, many of them she didn't even mean, and she can't bring to forgive herself for hurting the woman she loves, but the damn woman is so aggravating, it gets difficult to be civil towards her and not use any leverage she has against her, even when she knows the emotional cost at sake.

She just wants a clean slate; she wants Regina to know she is sorry — truly sorry — she wants to promise her she won't use their son as a bargaining chip again and that she will do everything in her power to help her re-built her relationship with him.

And the spell. The damned spell. Right now Emma is not sure if that was the single worst idea of her whole adult life or if it was the boost she needed to get a grip on herself and actually do something about her foolhardy infatuation. No, not infatuation — love.

Regina raises her arm off her eyes and turns her head a bit to stare at the blonde. Her gaze shifts, no longer filled with hate, but with confusion and maybe expectation. Emma can see the struggle in Regina's eyes, but more than that, she can feel it: trepidation, distrust, doubts; feelings that yield — like ripples in the water fading off after a moment — to a calm, peaceful realization.

After what seems like an eternity, Emma finally feels Regina's wall faltering and ultimately crumbling down, making the Sheriff's heart hammer against her ribcage, threatening to burst out.

Lost in the depth of dark brown eyes, she barely acknowledges Regina's voice and almost needs the mayor to repeat her words before they sink in.

"Apparently I did need a spell to figure it out," she finally says, a hand sliding over the bed to rest on Emma's cheek. She slowly closes the space between them and captures Emma's lips in a soft, chaste kiss.

All the urgency from their previous encounters is lost; the lust, the intense craving for each other, the recklessness and desperation, all gone, surrendering to a serenity that comes with the unspoken promise of a hopeful future.

Emma sighs with the relief as keys jangle against the door of the loft. She jolts away from Regina quickly enough to see her parents come inside.

"Where are they?" Regina immediately asks, standing from the bed, the wince not lost to Emma. "Where are Greg and Tamara?"

"They got away," David answers.

"So they still have it."

* * *

"I can feel it," Emma says, running through the mines. "It's like the oxygen's being sucked out of the air."

"Not the oxygen," Regina explains. "The magic."

"There it is," she says, reaching the glowing gem. "Once it stops glowing, its destruction is achieved, and then... well, then we'll see the real carnage. I'll try to contain its energy as long as I can."

"It won't be long. We'll have the bean soon. Then we can get the hell out of here."

"Emma," she starts slowly. "Slowing the device... It's going to require all the strength I have," Regina finally says, defeated.

"You're not coming with us, are you?" Emma says, realization dawning on her. "When you said good-bye to Henry, you... were saying good-bye."

"He knows I love him, doesn't he?"

"Regina, no! There's gotta be another way," she pleads.

"Everything that's happening is my fault. I created this device; it's only fitting that it takes my life."

"What am I supposed to tell Henry?" _What am _I _supposed to do?_

"Tell him that in the end it wasn't too late for me to do the right thing."

"Regina, please..."

"Everyone looks at me as the Evil Queen, including my son. Let me die as Regina."

This is so fucked-up; this is not the way it should be happening at all! Emma is despairing, not believing this was Regina's plan all along.

Regina raises her hand with the full intention of flicking her wrist in front of Emma, but the Sheriff is quicker and grabs her fingers around the Mayor's arm.

"Don't," she says, immediately realizing what Regina was about to do.

"Emma…"

"No, Regina. I am not one of your cronies you can manipulate however you please; I don't want to forget this. I don't want to forget you!"

"You'll be better off not remembering me. Especially—"

"That's not for you to decide!" She yells angrily. "How many times have you done this to me? How many conversations have I already forgotten?"

"None, Emma," Regina whispers, her gaze locked with Emma's.

"Okay," she nods after a pause, caressing Regina's cheek and kissing her chastely on the lips.

"Now go."

"Regina..." _I'm not letting you die, I'll be back, I won't abandon you now that I've found you._ She wants to say so many things, in the end she says none and just gets away.

* * *

The Jolly Roger is sailing away, leaving behind the coast of Storybrooke, sinking into the green hurricane created by the portal. Emma has a rope tied around her arm to hold her still while they drift towards Neverland. When the shaking stops and the ships steadies, she untangles herself and her eyes immediately search for Regina. Their gazes meet as she walks towards the mayor.

Emma just looks at her while Regina leans her arms against the railing, staring at the soft ripples of the endless ocean in front of them.

"I thought I had seen it all," Regina tells her after a long silence. "I thought a lifetime," she scoffs at the realization, "two lifetimes of loss and misery had taught me all I needed to know, had shown me everything."

Regina lowers her gaze to her fidgeting fingers and takes a deep breath before continuing. "Well dear, believe me; I was prepared for everything, except for you."

Emma turns to face the ocean, her arm bumping against Regina's. She stretches her hand and captures the brunette's, tangling their fingers together.

"Let's go find our son."

* * *

The sleeping arrangements work just fine for Emma. Mary Margaret complains for a while, though, as she is reluctant to leave her precious daughter alone with Regina. But her desire of being with her husband overrules her apprehension and eventually, she drops the subject, because, it's either Emma or her sleeping with Regina, and she feels more confident in Emma's safety beside the queen than her own.

Emma is only too happy to oblige and she thinks of this as a small victory amongst the myriad of dreadful occurrences of the past few days.

But as she watches the sun comes down on the dock of the boat, she is suddenly very aware of what that can mean. She's nervous as hell, and if the whole Neverland journey isn't making her fidgety enough, she is about to face a whole night with Regina. Alone. In the same cabin.

_Oh, shit_.

She didn't think this through. Perhaps it's not too late to accept Hook's offer to 'come discover why my Roger is so Jolly, lad'.

_Crap._

She's pacing. And she's being ridiculous. _Anxious, pitiful teenager doesn't suit you, Swan._ Taking a deep breath, she forces herself to get a grip and strolls through the confined space she will be sharing with Regina.

She opens the cabin door with trepidation and a wave of relief washes through her as she discovers it empty. Where the hell is Regina, anyway? The ship is not all that big. Perhaps _she_ did accept Hook's offer, she thinks bitterly, knowing perfectly well that that's not the case.

She throws herself on top of the bunk on the left of the cabin feeling the air gush out of her lungs. She doesn't have time to mull on her thoughts — to decide whether she is relieved or worried about her missing roommate — when the door opens and Regina comes into view.

Emma's breath catches in her lungs as she watches the woman she loves, standing still on the corner of the small room, not making a move to get inside but not leaving either. She feels her heart beating loudly against her ribcages and she is almost sure Regina can hear it.

Finally, Regina starts to move, taking a seat on the other bed, right in front of Emma.

Neither of them speaks. Now that the rush is over, that the adrenaline is gone and they are left just with themselves, bereft of any intense feeling outside their own little world, Emma just doesn't know what to say. She licks her lips nervously hoping Regina will take the initiative and put her out of her misery already, but she looks just as lost as Emma. Just as naked.

She sits up, takes the few steps that separate her bunk from Regina's and sits down by her side. Regina's reaction is immediate; she lifts her arm and places her hand on Emma's cheek, turning her face towards her, and slowly leans in to catch her lips.

The kiss is slow, tentative, shy. Emma sighs against soft lips turning the kiss hungry, ravenous as she cradles Regina's face to fit her lips perfectly.

She lowers her hands, puts them on top of the lapels of Regina's coat, and grabs the fabric with her slightly trembling hands. Reluctantly, she breaks the kiss and stares at Regina asking for permission to go on. Regina's almost imperceptible nod is enough for her.

She unbuttons the coat and pushes it off Regina's shoulders, revealing a black shirt. She slides her hands under it, her palms against Regina's skin, skimming her way up her torso as her muscles contract under Emma's fingertips.

Regina gasps at the touch and lifts her arms to allow Emma to take the garment off.

Emma stands up and grabs Regina's hands, tugging, to make the other woman stand in front of her. She drops to her knees, taking her time to trail Regina's torso with her mouth on her way down, leaving a trail of soft kisses, running her nose around her navel, nipping her way to her hipbones.

She sits back on her heals reaching Regina's boots to lower the zippers, and takes them off. Her hands reach stocking-clad ankles and travel up, feeling the muscles in Regina's calves, the back of her knees, her thighs, tense under her touch.

Still on her knees, she unzips the skirt and, with deliberate slowness, takes it off along with the black stocking, liberating from its constrains the skin she so much craves to touch.

Emma lifts her gaze to find the other woman shaking lightly and looking back at her with an intensity that, were she not sitting down, she's sure would make her lose her bearing.

Never breaking eye contact, Emma runs her fingers up her calf, then grazes her inner thighs prompting Regina to part her legs just a little bit more. Regina is almost panting as she hurriedly, forcefully runs her hands through Emma's hair burying her fingers in it, tugging it, holding on for dear life as Emma buries her nose on Regina's damp underwear, inhaling the bittersweet aroma emanating from the other woman.

Emma feels her hair being pulled up and, understanding the silent command, stands up to face Regina. With trembling hands, Regina tries to get rid of Emma's clothes and after a while of clumsy fidgeting, the blonde just takes them off, instantly locking back her lips to Regina's once the items are discarded.

They kiss is passionate, possessive, and Emma can feel Regina's desperate need as she forces her lips apart, pushing her tongue inside her mouth. Emma responds with equal passion clasping her hands on either side of Regina's head angling it, guiding her towards unrelenting gratification.

Emma feels more than hears Regina's moan against her lips igniting everything inside her. She glides down Regina's throat, sucking, kissing, nipping every inch of skin she can reach, as her hands get rid of their underwear.

The sight of Regina naked, yearning for Emma's touch, is breathtaking and Emma can't help but stare. Only the brunette's nervous fidgeting gets the other woman out of her stupor. She takes Regina's hand guiding her and lowers her to lie on the bed, where Emma then lies by her side.

She cradle's Regina's head and leans her mouth down to meet waiting lips. As her tongue explores, she gently parts Regina's legs and pushes her thigh between them. Her reaction in immediate as her hips buck up to meet Emma's skin, starting a thrusting rhythm, easily meet with Emma's slow movements, making her feel a delicious tingle traveling down her body.

Regina is not very vocal and whether it is because of their current circumstances of it it's always this way, Emma doesn't know, but she is loving every single pant, every silent whimper, every involuntary twitch of the body underneath that guides her through the right direction.

Enraptured by Regina's pliant response, Emma presses her down to the mattress, one hand on top of it to balance herself, the other skimming over Regina's body, finally finding her place on top of her breast. She cups it gently and grazes, encircling the area around the nipple, purposely not touching it. Regina gasps as her back arches lightly, filling Emma's hand.

Regina's pants become more erratic and Emma succumbs, her thumb smoothly gliding over her nipple. It hardens immediately, eliciting a soft moan, which makes Emma's finger tighten against the hard bud.

She abandons soft lips to place her mouth on top of the neglected breast, ravishing it, making it wake under her dedicated touch.

When Regina is a panting, quivering mess, Emma lifts her head and gazes intently at the woman beneath her. Reluctantly, she removes her thigh from between Regina's legs to place it astride her; Regina exhales a disappointed sigh, soon replaced by a gasp when Emma's hand takes its place.

Finding Regina's sensitive spot, her thumb strokes, teases, caresses as her other fingers explore and, oh my god, Regina is so wet, Emma feels she's going to die on the spot.

Her fingers circle leisurely and, moving forward, she eases a single digit inside Regina, moving it expertly as Regina's pelvis pushes up, welcoming the touch. A second finger follows the previous and shortly, a third one slip inside, unrelenting.

Emma moves matching the rhythm of Regina's hip, completely lost in the brunette.

Regina's body tenses, her muscles contract and tighten as she comes, and somehow Emma can feel the brunette's orgasm ripping through every single cell in her body obliterating any coherent thought remaining in the blonde's mind.

Convulsing around Emma's fingers, Regina's hands — that haven't left their anchor on Emma's hair — fist forcefully, almost painfully, as she throws her head back, her eyes wide shut and her mouth slightly parted, releasing a deep breath.

When the movement recedes, Emma withdraws her fingers and rolls on her back taking Regina's limp body with her, feeling the aftershocks on the brunette's body as she sags against her, Regina's still raged breath against her chest.

* * *

Regina rests her head on Emma's chest, listening the slowing heartbeat underneath her, feeling absolutely incapable of moving. She can't stop the tears that fall from her eyes. _So this is what being loved feels like. _

Emma wraps her arms around her, holding her tight, kissing the top of her head, and though she doesn't say anything, Regina can feel the comfort she's offering, making tears stream down even more copiously.

She thinks of Daniel and the shattered promises of a happy life by his side, of Cora and her ill-placed love for her daughter, of her father and his unwilling sacrifice for her happiness; she even dares to think of Henry, the reason of her existence, the one who makes everything worth it.

Finally, she thinks of the strong arms around her, promising to heal every wound, to fight every fear, to wipe away every tear, and somehow she knows everything will be all right.

And just like that, something clicks in her mind: she understands now; the missing piece of the puzzle, the missing part of her life.

Closing her eyes with a soft sigh, she surrenders.

**The** (kinda) **End**

(Still an epilogue to go)

* * *

**AN2. **This is totally how it really happened.


	9. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

* * *

"Staring at the blank page before you  
Open up the dirty window  
Let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find"

Natasha Bedingfield

* * *

Snow is having a hard time getting used to the Jolly Roger. They've been navigating Neverland's seas for _weeks_, strategizing over the best way to dock and attack.

During the day, she occupies her mind with various chores and plans; she feels the boredom and the monotony, but she is mostly busy. But the nights are the worst. Not only she is cramped in a tiny cabin and sleeping in an uncomfortable cot, but the damn thing is always _moving_ and it makes her nervous.

Charming, as usual, falls asleep like a log on the cot and nothing can disturb his peaceful slumber. She can't sleep, so she decides to take a walk on the deck. Sometimes the moon and the wind lull her to sleep; maybe tonight they will help her once again.

She promptly gets off of the cot and wraps a pink sweater around her before slipping out of the cabin and climbing the stairs. She walks slowly through the corridor that takes her to the deck, breathing the clean, salty air she now associates with the captivity of the vessel.

Her thoughts on the irony of the situation are interrupted by muffled voices coming from the other side of the wooden wall, right in front of the gunwale that faces the endless ocean. She can clearly distinguish Regina's voice, but she doesn't know who the other person is. Whoever it is, they seem to be having a heated argument and Snow can't help to be a little curious.

_Finally something interesting is happening on this stupid boat. _

She walks toward the voices even slower trying not to make any noise that will reveal her presence. As they get clearer, she can identify Emma —who else would Regina be fighting with in the dead of the night? She is close enough to see them, but can't get any closer without being seen, so she stays put trying to catch at least a few words of the discussion.

Emma is moving her hands forcefully as she speaks and Snow thinks Regina is about to be slapped. She feels pride swelling in her heart, seeing her daughter doesn't bulk to the mayor's threatening look. But it doesn't happen; Regina doesn't get slapped. Instead, she grabs Emma by the sweater, throws her against the wall behind her and closes the remaining space between the two bodies.

A part of Snow wants to reveal her presence and come to her daughter's rescue, but her hunter's intuition is suppressing her motherly instincts and telling her to stay put: something important is about to happen, the hunter is about to make her move on the prey. Her intuition proves to be right when Regina launches herself forward and engages Emma in a forceful kiss.

Snow's eyes open wide and her hand covers her mouth to suppress the gasp that threatens to come out.

Snow's mind is in overdrive. She doesn't understand why on earth the Evil Queen is kissing the savior, and why the hell isn't Emma slapping Regina away. On the contrary, her daughter seems to be enjoying the kiss, deepening it even, as Snow watches Emma's arms gather around Regina's waist and bringing them closer together, if that's possible.

With a swift movement, her mouth never leaving the brunette's, Emma pulls herself off the wall, and grabbing Regina by her hips lifts her, immediately causing Regina to wrap her legs around Emma. She turns them both around, pinning Regina against the wall to support her weight.

Regina's arms are wrapped around Emma's neck, her hands weaving through blond hair as they both moan lightly against each other.

Snow wants to get out of there, but her body doesn't answer. She just stands there, watching her daughter being thoroughly ravished by Regina and, apparently, enjoying it very much. And for god's sake, don't they need to breathe?

The wooden floor behind her creaks softly and, just in time, Snow turns around to see Charming walking towards her. She tries to prevent him from coming over but it's too late. He sees the scene in front of them and, mimicking Snow's previous expression, his eyes open wide and his mouth drops to the floor. Before he can say or do anything, she throws her hand on top of his mouth stopping him from emitting a sound.

After what seems like hours to Snow, they stop kissing and Regina puts her feet back to the floor, still slumped against the wall. The two women just stare at each other for a moment before Emma says something that involves Henry, Snow can't tell exactly what. She's not arguing anymore, if anything, her daughter seems sad.

Regina's head fall backwards, resting against the wall behind her as Emma's forehead comes in contact with Regina's neck; they just stand there, Regina fiddling with Emma's hair as her eyes are lost looking to the stars.

Snow feels Charming's gasp against her hand when tears start flowing out of Regina's eyes. Emma raises her head and starts comforting her in such a sweet way that all of Snow's apprehension almost seems to melt. The way they are looking at each other, Emma wiping Regina's tears away with the mayor giving no resistance at all… that can't be anything other than love.

Emma leans in to kiss Regina again, all the frenzy from before long gone, giving way to warmth and devotion Snow has never seen any of the two women display before. Her lips leave the brunette's to caress her cheeks and kiss the tears away.

Emma takes Regina's hand into hers and she offers no resistance. She smiles and places a chaste kiss on Regina's lips, walking away from Snow and Charming, oblivious to their audience.

Snow's hand leaves Charming's mouth as she turns to face him. His eyes are still wide open and his face is absolutely drained from color.

"Charming, they're—"

"In love," he finishes in tandem with her wife. "How did we miss this?" He asks.

"I have no idea," she answers, unable to feel anything but surprise.

"How long have this been going on?"

"I don't know," she says. "I thought she liked some guy, but… oh."

"What?"

"It was never some guy! It was Regina all along!"

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh, David! Our daughter has been in love with Regina I don't know for how long!" Snow informs her husband, her eyes wide open in disbelief.

"What are we gonna do?" He asks.

"Do? I don't think there's anything we can do."

"So we just let Regina take our baby away from us one more time?"

"I don't know if you noticed, but _our baby_ seemed more than happy to be taken away by her! Charming…" She says, sighing. "Let's take this one step at a time, ok? Let's find Henry and then we deal with this. Who knows, maybe this is exactly what Regina needs to stop hating me and just let herself be happy, for once."

"At Emma's cost?"

"Didn't you just see her? I think it's the first time since we've met her that she's actually happy," Snow retorts.

"What if she has her under a spell?"

"Charming…" She says with a condescending tone.

"You're right, let's take this one step at a time," he sighs, defeated. "Do you really think this was meant to be all along? That the Evil Queen's mortal enemy is the one that will provide her with redemption?" David asks.

"I've seen stranger things."

Snow mimics her husband's sigh and rests her face against his chest. She doesn't know if it's meant to be; she can't accept everything that's happened as a cruel meant-to-be cosmic joke, but watching her daughter's happiness reminds Snow what's really important, that that's what it's all about, because true love, she remembers, is the most powerful magic of all.

**The (real) End**

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**AN: **Lots of love to everyone who favorited, followed and reviewed, and very special thanks to _starsthatburn_ and especially to _tonguemarksonmymirror_ for enduring my obnoxiousness.


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